


Wait a Minute, Mister Postman

by wishsociety



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Death, Drug Use, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishsociety/pseuds/wishsociety
Summary: "I'm going to enlist," He says, and you're almost numb, actually hearing the words.





	1. talkin bout my generation

Your name is John Egbert, and on March 8, 1965, the first troops arrive in Da Nang, Vietnam. Your father watches the news report on television and you feel the discomfort in your stomach as you think of Dave. He had sworn upon your graduation day that if Johnson started sending troops to Vietnam, he would volunteer. 

Sometimes his American pride got the best of him, especially when it came to the Commies, who you didn't think were that bad, but Dave hated. He was a staunch advocate for democracy, believing it to be the only proper way to run a country. You craved the idea of isolationism, in a world before the world wars that you never experienced. Johnson wasn't your favorite president, and Eisenhower had always warned against war in Vietnam. Not that you really knew all that much about politics. You just wanted to avoid even the possibility of war.

To avoid Dave running off to Asia and possibly getting killed.

He calls you that night, and you sit on a stool in the kitchen, the cord to the phone wrapped mindlessly around your index finger.

"I'm going to enlist," He says, and you're almost numb, actually hearing the words.

"I figured you would," You say, weakly. Your finger starts to turn purple. The cord springs back into place when you yank it out. "What next?"

He explains the whole process, in excruciating detail, and all you know is that he's leaving in May. Dave planned on joining the military immediately after high school, but you'd managed to talk him down for a year. At least consider college. Everything about the world was just so tense, in the midst of the whole Cold War thing, and you didn't want him to end up fighting the Soviets.

"I'll tell you what, John," Dave says, and you snap back into reality. "The military needs guys like us. Just regular old Americans looking out for the good of their country."

"Right," You say, inwardly rolling your eyes. You examine the dirt under your nails. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Absolutely. I've been sure about it since we were thirteen years old, Egbert. I want every dirty commie out of this country."

"Gee, Dave, have you ever thought about reading The Crucible? I think you'd like it."

"What's it about?"

"I really think you should look into it yourself. It's...allegorical."

"You and I both damn well know that I don't know what allegorical means. This is why you're the scholar, marching off to Berkeley in the fall."

"I wouldn't call myself a scholar, exactly. I'm just not sure about all this. Maybe the Communists aren't actually that bad?"

"Christ, you better hope your phone lines aren't tapped."

"Have you been listening to your brother's weird conspiracies again?"

"They're not conspiracies, John, they're the truth."

"I'm sure they are. I don't think the government would be very interested in a conversation between two teenage boys, to be honest."

"That's exactly what they want you to think."

"If you're so paranoid about the government, then why would you jump up to enlist in the military?"

"Because I care about my country more than I care about my privacy. I will protect my God-given freedom with my heart and soul."

"You sound like the propaganda videos they show us at school."

"It's not propaganda John, it's-"

"Encouragement. Yeah, I know. Sometimes I think you're brainwashed."

"Don't you support the war?"

"Yeah, not exactly."

"Why not?"

"I just don't think it's necessary-"

"John, do you want the Communists to take over and get rid of the Constitution?"

"I don't think that's how it works..."

"You're the one who's brainwashed. Listening to all those hippies on the radio."

"I don't listen to hippies on the radio," You roll your eyes outwardly, this time. And then you get serious. "What if they find out, Dave?"

"About what?" He asks.

You peek around the corner to make sure your dad isn't listening. "About us."

"What about us?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"They won't find out. I'll just leave that whole thing out when they ask me any questions about it."

"So...lying?"

"Not lying. I'm not telling the truth. But I'm doing it to help America."

"Whatever you say, Dave. I really think you have yourself fooled. And that you're in over your head. But it's your life, I guess."

"Why are you so against me going?"

"Because I don't want you to die, maybe?"

"Dying for my country would be an honor."

"God, I hate it when you say shit like that. Have you ever thought that, maybe, they have you fooled? And you're not actually doing some great service to the country? You might spend a whole day in Vietnam and then get destroyed by a land mine, or something. That's not glamorous. That's not martyrdom. You've romanticized this whole idea of being a soldier and dying a hero's death, or whatever."

"I'm not romanticizing anything. What other use am I if I'm not a soldier, John? I'm sorry I didn't get into Berkeley and I won't be jaunting off to get a degree in math or whatever the fuck you think you're doing. I'm not going to college. I don't have a job. I might as well enlist."

"This isn't about you not going to college, Dave. It's about the idea that you might fucking die and I'll be left here."

"Why does it matter, John?"

"Because I love you, maybe?"

"And? It's not like we can get married and have kids and serve a purpose. It's not natural and it's not right, and maybe when I'm gone, you'll find a good wife and you can carry on the way men are supposed to."

"I hate it when you get like this. I don't care if it's not natural. I care about you. And I wish you'd stop beating yourself up over parts of you that you can't control. I've only ever had feelings for you, Dave. Not a woman. Not anyone else. And I think we're doing just fine, whether we can get married or have kids or whatever. But things are going to change, Dave. We're in the middle of a revolution. Not just politically, but socially. Academically. Sexually..."

"You really sound like one of the hippies now, John. You're not on LSD, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I just believe that love conquers all. And I don't think you have to go fight this stupid war to prove that you're man enough."

"It's not about proving I'm man enough. It's proving my worth."

"Well, you're worth something to me. Regardless of whether or not you go off to serve our country."

"Get some sleep, John. I'll see you at school tomorrow. If it makes you feel better, I'm not going anywhere until after graduation."

"That's only a couple months away."

"We'll make the most of it. Good night," He pauses, and you hear him take a deep breath, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

He hangs up and you try to ignore the tears brimming in your eyes. You hardly get any sleep, dreaming of Dave in a wasteland with explosions firing off in the background. The nightmare is nothing compared to what your reality will be come May.

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and spring has always been beautiful in California. It’s warm and you’re spending the day on the lawn, stretched out with your psychology textbook and a notebook. It’s a quiet day, comparatively, has been ever since Sprout Hall was occupied and it caused a big ruckus. Your father had called that day, worried you’d been amongst the masses arrested. You definitely hadn’t.

Your note taking is interrupted when a girl approaches you, tall and spindly, with blonde hair so long you wonder how she cleans it. If she cleans it. It does look kind of grimy, upon further inspection. Her glasses are pushed far up on the bridge of her nose and her clothes are dark and tattered. But it’s clearly purposeful. You hope she isn’t asking you on a date, you really don’t like Janis Joplin very much. And she seems like the type to love her.

“Do you have a moment to talk about the war in Vietnam?” She asks, voice somehow shrill and gravelly at the same time.

“No, I’m very busy,” You murmur, and this is apparently the wrong answer. She crouches down, grabbing you by the front of your sweater.

“You don’t look very busy to me, buddy.”

“Vriska, stop!” Another girl yells from the distance. You see her running towards the two of you, curly hair cropped short and fluttering behind her. She has dark skin, and dons the kind of sundress you see a lot of the girls wearing around campus. It practically drags the ground, and you marvel at how clean she keeps it. She yanks Vriska off of you, surprisingly strong to be all of five foot two. Vriska shoots her a dirty look.

“I’m sorry about my friend,” She says, and you are momentarily distracted by her eyes. They’re a deep, dark brown, and you’re practically hypnotized. “She’s new to our organization and isn’t exactly sure how to go about recruiting people yet.”

“It’s alright,” You say, eyeing Vriska as she grumbles to herself.

“I’m Nepeta Leijon, cofounder of one of our student-led organizations against the war in Vietnam. Do you have a moment to talk about the war?”

“Not right now,” You say, “I have class in fifteen minutes and I need to finish my reading. But I’m free tonight?”

“You weren’t free tonight when I talked to you,” Vriska growls, “C’mon, Nep, he just wants sex. Just like all these other rich assholes.”

“You mean like your boyfriend?” Nepeta asks.

Vriska blushes a deep red and turns her head, “He’s different.”

“Sure he is,” Nepeta rolls her eyes, turning back to you. “Her boyfriend’s a real jerk, if you ask me. Always going on about his money and his beach house and their boat. But, anyway, I didn’t catch your name?”

“I’m Karkat. Vantas.”

“Nice to meet you. I’ll see you back here at five? We can go somewhere else if you’d like, but this can be where we meet. I’d love to tell you about our organization.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“I’m going to vomit,” Vriska groans.

“It’s a date. Good luck in class.” Nepeta smiles, and she and Vriska retreat back towards the library, likely to prey on other targets.

“Who was that?” Someone asks, and you turn to see Sollux settling down next to you on the grass.

“Not sure yet,” You answer, “Her name is Nepeta. They were talking to me about the war.”

“Karkat, if you get involved with those people, you’re going to end up in jail.”

“She seemed nice. She had on a sundress.”

“A dress doesn’t mean anything, you imbecile.”

“I don’t think she’s involved in the riots or anything. I think she just doesn’t like the war.”

“No one likes the war, KK. Normal people just deal with it.”

You sigh, closing your textbook and admitting defeat. Hopefully your professor won’t ask you to go too in depth. “I think it’s admirable.”

“What, committing a crime and making an ass of yourself by ‘protesting’ on campus?”

“No, fighting for what you believe in.”

“You just think she’s cute.”

“That might have a little bit to do with it, yeah,” You grumble, “You can’t say anything. Aren’t you still tutoring that dumb girl because you like her?”

“She isn’t dumb. She’s just not good at chemistry. Plenty of people aren’t.”

“What is she good at, then, Sol?”

“She’s good at plenty of things.”

“Like?”

He’s silent for a moment, and you don’t even bother to hold back your laughter. “You hardly know her, Sollux, and you drop everything to go teach her something she won’t ever understand. How is she even passing the class?”

“For your information, she always asks for my help. And I don’t drop everything.”

“Name one time you haven’t gone over to tutor her.”

“I just...haven’t ever been preoccupied.”

“What about when we were going to listen to the new Beatles album and she called and you ditched me to teach her how to balance equations?”

“Maybe I like balancing equations better than the Beatles.”

“Man, I highly doubt that.”

“Anyway, tutoring a girl isn’t exactly the same as joining a political movement for one.”

“It’s one little information session. I’m hardly joining a cult here.”

“Whatever, KK. I’ll see you in Sprout Hall next time these freaks decide to stage a demonstration. I have a chemistry class to attend.”  
He walks away without another word, and you reopen your textbook. You manage to cram in another few pages before you go to class, and feel a deep sense of satisfaction when the questions you answer were all on the pages you’d gotten to read.

 

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you insist on playing The Who as Nepeta gets ready even though she insists that Roger Daltrey isn’t as good as you say he is. Nepeta’s music taste has always left a lot to be desired, and clearly, so does her taste in boys.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with that loser,” You roll your eyes, feet propped up on the desk in your room. “He had on a sweater.”

“Look, Vriska, I have no desire to date someone like Eridan. He’s too…”

“Attractive?”

“I was going to say greasy. You might be into the whole Mick Jagger thing, but I’m definitely not.”

“Mick Jagger is overrated. Eridan’s more like Keith Richards.”

Nepeta laughs. “That’s even worse. That guy’s gonna look like a skeleton in ten years.”

“I don’t care what he looks like in ten years,” You say, “I’m digging what he looks like now.”

“Anyway,” She says, “Karkat seems nice. He’s clean, at least, which is more than can be said for most of the guys on campus. I love the whole revolutionary ideology of the sixties, or whatever, but I don’t think we should stop taking showers.”

“Speak for yourself, I haven’t washed my hair in a week.”

She laughs, “Gross.”

“You keep saying gross when your hair is falling out in a couple years. The oils are keeping mine healthy,” You blow the aforementioned hair out of your face, “Besides, I have to wash it tonight. Eridan and I are having dinner in the city with his parents tomorrow. They have some big news, apparently.”

“What do you think it is?”

“Probably bought another boat, or something. I don’t know. I doubt it affects me in any way. Eridan just likes to bring me around as another reminder of his rebellion.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Nah, his family actually likes me. He likes to pretend they don’t since I have ‘hippie hair’ and I wear the bad girl clothes or whatever. But they always invite me to their summer house. I doubt they’d do that if they thought I was a delinquent.”

“That’s probably true. You know how he is. He has a flair for the dramatic. He just likes the idea of rebelling. He never protests with us.”

“He doesn’t feel the need to rebel against the war. He’s wealthy. They won’t touch him. And he isn’t a student, so he can’t exactly join a student organization.”

“That’s so selfish. What about everyone who isn’t considered untouchable?”

Vriska shrugs. “I don’t know. People will find ways to get out of it, I’m sure.”

“You seem really apathetic to be a part of the organization.”

“You seem really giddy to be going on a date with some sweater-clad loser.”

“Those two things aren’t similar, Vriska.”

“That’s what you think.”

“I don’t think, I know. Anyway, I’m leaving to go meet Karkat. If Eridan comes over, please make sure he stays out of my bed. It smelled like his cologne for a month after last time.”

“No promises,” You mutter.

He shows up half an hour later, knocking timidly on the door before flinging it open. It defeats the whole purpose of knocking, but you decide not to mention it.

“How are you today, doll?” He asks, leaning down to smack a kiss on your cheek.

“I told you not to call me that,” You snap, and he laughs. 

“Just as cheery as usual, I see.”

You’d started dating in high school, and at this point, it was comfortable. He drove you fucking nuts sometimes, especially when you get sick of hearing his weird accent and his constant attempts at giving you pet names, but you loved him. For some reason. 

Despite his fits and quirks and, as Nepeta put it, “flair for the dramatic.” 

“Where’s Nep?” He asks, throwing himself onto your bed.

“On a date.”

“Really? With who?”

“Some guy she met on the lawn today. He had on a sweater. Seemed like a pretty neat guy,” Your tone is sarcastic.

“You’re clearly harboring some resentment.”

“Just a teeny bit. I talked to him first.”

“And you wanted the date?”

“Hardly. We were trying to get him to join the organization. He didn’t listen to me because I’m not pretty like Nepeta is.”

“Maybe if you’d wash your hair and put on some clean clothes…”

“You sound like your parents,” You grumble, and he cringes.

“That’s something I never wanted to hear.”

“Speaking of your parents, do you know what this big news is?”

"Not in the slightest. They’re being very secretive about the whole thing.”

“Interesting,” You murmur. 

He laughs. “You’re clearly faking interest, but I really do appreciate it. We’re eating at that seafood place you like.”

“Well, thank goodness for small miracles.”

“Come on Vris, lighten up. It’s a beautiful Tuesday and everyone’s falling in love.”

“God, you’re dumb,” You groan, smiling in spite of yourself. “Come here and kiss me.”

 

Your name is Jake English, and you are in the midst of a very involved conversation with your boyfriend about the war when the telltale rattle of the mail truck sounds outside your open window.

“Are you going to check it now?” Dirk asks, and you shrug.

“If you think I should, I suppose I will. I’m not very worried about it.”

“If you don’t get it, I’ll get it myself.”

You sigh, stretching as you get up from the couch. Dirk has been ceaselessly paranoid about the draft, about the idea of you going to war. His little brother has already signed himself up, all too eager to prove his manhood, and he seems anxious about you as well.

You retrieve the mail and go back inside, flipping mindlessly through bills. Dirk watches with a close eye, tightening his hand’s grip on yours.

“Dirk,” You say, calmly, “You have to let go so I can look. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. I know you’re worried about Dave, but he’ll be fine. The war will probably be over before they can even send him over here. He’s a kid. I doubt he’s the first choice for the front lines.”

He seems to untense, at least a little. But then your eyes land on the sending address of one of the envelopes and your heart sinks.

He clearly notices the change in your demeanor, his breath hitching. “Jake? What is it?”

“Don’t freak out,” You say, already attempting to soothe him. You flip the letter over and his eyes go wide, silently panicking. “Let me open it.”

You open it, and it does absolutely nothing to quell your fears. It only confirms them.

You’ve been drafted.

Dirk immediately starts sobbing, body heaving as he flings his arms around your neck. And you know that nothing is going to be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know a ton about the Vietnam War so I apologize if some of this isn't accurate. I've been pretty inspired to do this for around a year or so, so it's nice to finally go out on a limb and put it out there. This chapter is going to serve as a prologue of sorts, just to get a feel for where everyone is and what they're doing.  
> Thank you for reading!


	2. my name and hers are going to be the same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But now you’d break up The Kinks yourself if it meant your boyfriend wouldn’t leave.

Eridan insists on picking out your clothes for you, as if you don’t know what his parents do and don’t approve of after four years of dating. He picks a dress, naturally, and you think it may have actually come out of Nepeta’s side of the closet. It’s knee-length, and red, a color you don’t find yourself wearing very often. 

When you try it on, though, it fits in the hips and the chest, so it can’t be Nepeta’s. Eridan is suitably stunned when you put it on, and you take a moment to let him gaze at you, peeking at him from behind your (freshly washed) hair. 

“You really should get a haircut,” He grumbles, and you know it’s just his way of avoiding giving you an actual compliment. “It’s going to start fraying at the ends.”

“I get it trimmed,” You say, leaving it at that. You step carefully into a pair of heels that boost you up to Eridan’s height, and he seems unhappy with the change. Nevertheless, he holds your hand as you go down the stairs, his other hand pressed flat against your back to make sure you don’t fall. It’s a sweet gesture, and you’d take it over excessive verbal praise any day.

His car is nice, subtly expensive in a way that even you can appreciate. It’s not too flashy, and you’re thankful for that. The guys at school who base their entire ego around how many girls gather around their cars in the parking lot make you nauseous.

The restaurant isn’t too far away, a half hour’s ride at the most, but it’s far enough that walking would be an inconvenience. You take off your shoes and prop them up on the windshield, something Eridan discouraged until he realized it wasn’t going anywhere. The radio is a little staticky, but the sound of an old Buddy Holly song punctures it just enough to be heard.

“You really do look beautiful,” Eridan says, eyes fixed carefully on the road. “I know it makes you feel weird when I say that, but it always blows me away to see you all dressed up. It’s like a different girl.”

“I know I look better this way,” You flick your hair away from your eyes. Maybe you should cut it. It’s in the way more often than not. “I just don’t really care.”

“I mean...I love you, either way. I just want you to know that you pull this off well. I know you get kind of uncomfortable when you branch out from the leather and fishnets thing you usually have going on. Which I’m not complaining about. It’s just...nice to change things up sometimes.”

“I mean, you look pretty good all dressed up, too. I guess.”

“You don’t have to say it back, Vris. I don’t want anything from this. I just hope you know you’re beautiful.”

You don’t say anything, feeling your cheeks flush as you turn to look out the window. 

“Anyway,” He clears his throat, “What do you think my parents’ big news is?”

“I figure they’re changing summer plans, which will just be so disappointing. I love Cape Cod.”

He snorts, “I doubt it. My parents are obsessed with that place. I wish we’d go somewhere more exciting.”

“Like where?”

“Out of country, maybe. England?”

“England is so rainy.”

“Like you’ve been,” He rolls his eyes.

“I don’t have to go to know anything about the weather there.”

You bicker, affectionately, until he pulls into the parking lot at the restaurant. His parents’ car is already there, parked right up next to the curb. It is the flashy kind of expensive. But they have the money to flash. You follow him inside and the hostess leads you to a table towards the back, where the windows overlook the bay. It’s your favorite place to sit.

Eridan’s mother stands to hug you, the everlasting portrait of European grace. His father settles for a handshake, and you match his strength, just like you always have. Eridan claims that it’s what won his father over the first time you met, but you think it might have more to do with a shared love for old rock ‘n’ roll music.

“Nice to see you, Vriska,” His mother nods in your direction. “How is school?”

“Same as always,” You shrug, “I’m just glad to be almost done. I finally moved off campus, at least, even if I’m sharing the world’s tiniest apartment with my best friend.”

She laughs, a melodic sound. You’ll never get used to how composed she is, even when supposedly losing her composure.

Eridan’s father had apparently met her in Austria during World War II. They’d fallen in love and he’d whisked her back overseas and they’d had Eridan, producing a half-European, half-accented monstrosity of a boy that you’d fallen in love with.

They don’t breach the mystery subject until dessert, and when the waiter delivers a hefty piece of chocolate cake, Eridan’s father clears his throat. Eridan squeezes your hand under the table.

“So, son, we’re still receiving some of your mail at the house. And we usually throw it out unless it seems important, but something came in the mail the other day...and we thought you might want to read it yourself.”

Eridan plucks the letter from his father’s fingers, reading it. His face goes solemn after only a moment and you watch as his eyes get increasingly frantic, scanning the page. You sit there, uncomfortably, until he returns the letter to his father, nodding slowly.

“What is it?” You demand, patience wearing thin.

“I...was drafted,” Eridan says, voice oddly calm. “I’m not untouchable, after all.”

“That can’t be right,” You say, trying to ignore the sudden octave leap your voice has taken. You snatch the letter away, skimming it yourself. Your hands shake as you get all the way through, and you’re crying openly only minutes later. “It can’t be right.”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Eridan’s mother reaches for your hand, taking it in her own.

You feel yourself starting to hyperventilate, breath shortening as you look at Eridan and let go, tears falling rapidly down your face. So much for your carefully applied mascara. No one touches the chocolate cake. Eridan takes your hand, wordlessly, and leads you out of the restaurant.

“Shouldn’t you tell your parents goodbye?” You whisper, hoarse.

"I’ll call them later.” He answers, stony-faced. “Right now you need to get home.”

You never meant to love him this much. You probably hated him, actually, for most of high school. It wasn’t until your junior year, after he had graduated, that you looked at him and thought that it could work. He had always liked you. You grew up neighbors, before your father got in trouble for embezzlement and all the mess that came with that. 

He was something like Dennis the Menace, always showing up unannounced in your yard when you were outside. Your parents were friends, so he was ever-present at holiday dinners and parties. And he annoyed the hell out of you. You considered yourself a mature woman, beginning at age nine. He was always a whole lot less mature. And gawky. 

On some rare occasions, you would put your hatred behind you and the two of you would play pirates together. This was always short-lived, however, because he didn’t seem to know how to play the game correctly. You found yourself telling him what actions to take, the exact words you wanted him to say. He always listened, though, regardless of how bossy you were.

High school came, and he stopped making himself a presence in your yard every day. You were over the whole pirate thing, anyway, and that was the only use he served to you. 

Until his senior year, when he was suddenly attractive and you were a sophomore, obsessing over this boy you had disregarded for so long. But he was dating some other girl, one much more popular, more wealthy, and more likable than you. You heard she ended up at Berkeley, too, but you hadn’t run into her yet. They’d ended with a bang on graduation day, with a scene that involved lots of sobbing on his part. 

You’d thought the whole scene was kind of pathetic, but you didn’t hesitate to comfort him. A cute boy is a cute boy, pathetic or not. That was the summer that you started spending all your time together, and you were dating by time he took off to Stanford in the fall. 

Long distance was hard, but not too terrible. And now that he was done with college and had taken over one of his parents’ (many) businesses, you felt comfortable with the idea of being with him forever. Even if you still thought he was kind of obnoxious. 

And here you were, now, faced with the idea of long distance for a much different reason. You would give anything to keep him home. It’s all you can think about on the way back to your apartment, as he sneaks glances at you from the driver’s side.

“Vris, are you okay?” He asks, finally, turning down the radio. You didn’t even know what song was on, which was rare for you. Music had always been your favorite thing. Besides Eridan, maybe. And you’d always prioritized music over him.

But now you’d break up The Kinks yourself if it meant your boyfriend wouldn’t leave. 

“No,” You say, flatly. “You’re leaving.”

“We’ve been apart before, Vriska. Besides, I’ll be with a bunch of guys the whole time. At least you know I won’t be cheating on you.”

“I think your face is a pretty great guarantee you won’t be cheating on me. But I’m more upset about the fact that you could literally die.”

“You can’t think that way.”

“War means death, Eridan. Why do you think Nepeta and I spend so much time fighting against it? If the war hadn’t happened, if Johnson hadn’t fucking escalated this whole thing into what it is now, you would stay here. And you could come to my graduation, and we could get married, and everything would be perfect.”

“You’re talking like I’m already dead.”

“You might as well be,” You snap, immediately dissolving into tears again.

He doesn’t answer, turning to focus on the road again. He pulls into the parking lot at your apartment and gets out, crossing in front of the car to open your door. You start to stomp inside, but stop when you notice he isn’t moving with you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, tone still sharp.

“I didn’t know you wanted to marry me,” He whispers, almost awestruck.

You roll your eyes. He always focuses on compliments, never on the issue at hand. You just want to lock him away until the war is over.

And you have to look away, biting the inside of your cheek. You don’t like it when people see you cry. You never have. And he’s probably seen you crying more tonight than ever before.

And then he’s on one knee and your eyes go wide, watching as he fumbles to pull off his class ring.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a real one; I didn’t expect this at all. But...I think the one thing I’d really regret if I died over there is that I never even tried to marry you. It’s been four years, and I fall in love with you more every day. Even when you’re mean to me, which is most of the time. But, um...I can’t leave without doing this. We’ll get you a real ring before I leave, I promise.”

You just stand there, stunned into silence. You’re glad you’re wearing nice clothes, for once. 

“Well?” He prompts.

“Of course, you idiot,” You laugh, somehow managing to choke it out between sobs. “Why would I say no?”

He grins, goody and wide and endearing, and you pull him up to kiss you, not caring who’s watching.

You are going to be his wife, after all.

 

Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and you are on a date with one of the cutest boys you’ve ever met. Vriska seemed adamant that the sweater wasn’t a good thing, but you heartily disagreed. It was nice to see a variation from the other guys on campus, all swept up in the way the new rock ‘n’ roll bands are dressing. 

You’re at a diner a few minutes away from campus, and he has his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, cradling it protectively. 

Half an hour ago, you’d talked about the war. You’re no longer talking about the war. 

“I grew up with my brother, mostly,” Karkat says, “My dad was in jail, for a while. He was a protester. It’s one of the reasons I was really hesitant about this. My brother would kill me if he found out I was even talking to someone who ‘engaged in that kind of behavior.’”

“I think it depends on how you choose to protest. I’m very inspired by Dr. King, for example. And Thoreau’s Civil Disobedience. If you’ve ever read that. I think it’s genius, if not a little hard to read.”

“I’m surprised you’ve read it.”

“I like to know what I’m getting involved in,” You say, “I’m not one of those people protesting the war because of this whole ‘make love, not war’ thing. I could not care less about the war if I thought it was justified. But I don’t. I wouldn’t even call myself a pacifist. I just think we’re doing this for no reason. And I don’t approve of all the casualties that are going to happen for no reason.” You get a little choked up towards the end, but swallow down your tears with a bite of apple pie.

“I can agree with you, there. And I guess if you’re not inciting riots or anything, there’s no harm in joining. I’m willing to be a part of this little club you have going on. But I’m not going to go to jail over it or anything.”

“We won’t ask you to. Right now, we’re just trying to recruit new members. It’s more difficult than you would think. Vriska and I founded the whole thing. I’m not really sure why she’s a part of it. I think she just likes the act of rebellion. My mother says she’s trouble, but she always invites her back for Thanksgiving. She’s quite charming.”

“It’s a shame I seem to have missed out on the charm.”

You laugh. “Only when she wants to be. I think it irritated her when you didn’t bother to hear her out. She’s a good person, at heart. Just a little abrasive. She’s been dating this guy for four years, which I wouldn’t have ever thought she’d be capable of. But I guess she must have a soft side somewhere.”

“I was trying to study. My psychology class is a little tough. I was trying to finish the reading.”

“Did you?”

“I got close enough. What was your family like?”

“Well, my father died. Towards the end of the second world war. My mother was pregnant with me when it happened, so I never met him. I grew up with her and my older sister in the house, mostly. It wasn’t anything exciting.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” You mutter, taking a sip of your own coffee. “It’s one of the reasons I don’t like war much.”

“Do you think that war was necessary?”

“Of course. But that doesn’t mean it always is, you know?”

“I know what you mean.” He glances at his watch, “I really hate to put an end to this, but I think it’s time we go home.”

“My mother always said that nothing good happened after midnight,” You smile, and he returns the gesture.

“Sounds like a smart lady,” He pays without even asking, and you take note of it for later. 

He walks you back to your apartment, and shakes your hand at the door. It’s a little awkward, but you appreciate the formality. You consider it a sign of respect.

You practically skip to your apartment, ready to tell Vriska about your date. When you walk in, though, she and Eridan are sitting on the floor, both in tears.

“Eridan’s been drafted,” She says, breathless.

You're ready to console her, but then she keeps speaking.

“And we’re engaged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't really fit in with the next chapter, but it's plot relevant, so consider it an interlude of sorts.  
> My posting for this won't be regular, exactly, but I'm going to try and update at least once a week. Thank you for reading!


	3. it's a better life for me and you || may 1965

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Is this really any way to treat your boyfriend, who is departing tomorrow for the war effort in a foreign country?”

Your name is Vriska Serket and it’s a beautiful day to be on the lake. The wind is blowing just enough to relieve you from the harsh glare of the sun, and you’re in the new swimsuit you bought that your mother called “scandalous.” Eridan is at the wheel of the boat, and you’re in the passenger seat, head tipped back to really soak in the sun.

He can’t talk much over the sound of the engine, but it’s nice just to be in his presence. He keeps catching you staring at him, but you’re trying to take in as much as possible. You’d think that after four years, you’d have his face memorized, but you have to make sure. He finally turns the engine off, letting the boat rock along with the ripples in the lake.

“You know, if we got married and I got you pregnant, I wouldn’t have to go,” He says, and you roll your eyes.

“First of all, I’m finishing school. Second of all, you leave tomorrow, so it’s a little late for that. Third of all, I am appalled that you would even suggest something so idiotic.”

“Vris, I was kidding. Calm down.”

You settle for rolling your eyes again, but then he grabs your hand and you feel the smile on your face before you can will it away.

“I’m going to miss you,” You say, and he nods.

“I’ll miss you, too. Maybe I won’t be gone that long.”

“The war basically just started.”

“And maybe it’ll go quick. The U.S. military is the best in the world, you know.”

“So they say.”

You turn your attention the shoreline, watching children play in the sand. They are clearly so oblivious that the world is at war around them, content to roll around and bury each other and just be kids. You miss the innocence. 

“I mean, you have lots of wedding planning to do while I’m away. I’m sure the time will just fly by.”

“I doubt it. It’s hard to plan a wedding when you don’t know if the groom will be attending.”

“Don’t look at it that way. I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I do. I won’t let it happen. Not when I have you waiting on me here. My mother is ecstatic about the engagement, by the way. She wants you to call her on Sunday to talk about the rough wedding timeline. She’s very excited. My older brother was never married, as you know.”

“Not very surprising,” You murmur. The only thing you remember about Eridan’s brother before his spontaneous move to Nevada was the tendency to hit on you in your later years. As in when you were thirteen or fourteen and he’d stand out in the Ampora’s yard and leer. “But I’m glad she’s excited. I’m excited, too, really. It’s just hard to get past the fact that you’re getting shipped off to Vietnam for months on end.”

“It might not be months.”

“You’re being awful optimistic for someone who’s probably going to die in combat.”

“Can you stop about the death thing for five minutes?”

“I can’t. Nepeta says this shit in her sleep.”

“Well, you’re not Nepeta. Thank God. No offense.”

“Did I tell you she’s got a boyfriend?”

“You mentioned it. Who is he?”

“His name’s Karkat. You probably don’t know him; he goes to school with us. He seems pretty apathetic about the war, but I’m sure Nep will change that. She was at the diner with him until she got back last time you were over.That’s the latest she’s ever stayed out while we’ve lived together.”

“Is he a troublemaker?”

“Doesn’t seem to be. She said they just got to talking about family. She insists she’s just trying to get him to join our little club, but I’m sure she likes him. You know how she gets when she has a crush on someone. She didn’t stop talking about him all last night. Kept me up well into the morning.”

“That’s good for her, I think. She could use someone who thinks the same way she does.”

“No, I think so too. You know how overprotective I am, though. I just worry about her. She’s too good to get her heartbroken by some loser in a sweater vest.”

Eridan laughs, ending the conversation. He instinctively smooths his hand over the top of your head and you pretend to be irritated. 

Until he throws you in the lake and your sole purpose becomes getting even.

 

The sun is high in the sky as you drive the tent stake into the ground, and Jake watches, eyebrows lifted in amusement.

“Look, instead of mentally ridiculing me, you could lend a hand,” You snap, “Mr. Mountain Man.”

“I’m hardly a mountain man,” He chuckles, still making no effort to help you with the tent. “You’re the one that suggested camping.”

“Because you like it, and I want to do it with you before you leave.”

“Dirk, we could’ve stayed at the house just as easily. I would’ve enjoyed myself there.”

“I am making an effort. Please create a fire so I don’t have to embarrass myself further.”

Jake snorts, but follows your directions. He gets it going in a matter of minutes, and you’re still struggling along with all the fabric. He moves over to you and wordlessly takes over. You almost protest, but decide to step back and let him do it instead. He probably likes doing it, anyway, and you’re not going to deny him simple pleasures.

“I love you, but you would make a useless camping partner in the real wilderness,” Jake laughs, and you roll your eyes.

“What is this, then? The fake wilderness?”

“It’s the woods behind our house, Dirk, this isn’t exactly what one would consider the great outdoors.”

“You are so demanding. I am doing my best here.”

“I appreciate it. I really do.”

“Then act like it.”

“Is this really any way to treat your boyfriend, who is departing tomorrow for the war effort in a foreign country?”

“We agreed not to bring it up.”

“You’ll have to face reality sometime.”

“I’ll face it after you’re gone. I’m not wasting any more of my time with you crying.”

“Don’t hold back your emotions because you think it’ll ruin my night, Dirk. Nothing is going to ruin my night. Not unless you break up with me and leave me in the woods. Which, don’t.”

“There goes my whole plan,” You laugh, in spite of yourself. “I just want everything to be happy tonight. We can cry in our letters later. Right now...I want nothing but good memories.”

“Even bad times with you are good memories.”

You catch yourself tearing up, willing it away by blinking as fast as you can. Jake pretends not to notice, turning to stare into the fire. The tent is long fixed, all thanks to Jake’s expertise. You grab a drink from the cooler, and Jake follows suit.

The fire is too hot for noon, so you withdraw to an area far enough away that you’re not catching the smoke. It’s a good day for camping if there ever was one, and you’re glad that you decided to do something for Jake. You catch him smiling whenever he isn’t looking at you, and it makes you feel as if you’ve done something really meaningful for him.

“So why do you like camping so much?” You ask.

“Oh, well, my grandfather took me and my cousin a lot when we were kids. He died when I was...thirteen or fourteen, and Jade and I started going on our own once a year. She’s in college, now, so we haven’t been able to make it in a few years. But I promised her we’d go after I get back. Maybe you can come.”

You know you can’t go. But you choose not to remind him of that fact. “Where does she go to school?”

“Oh, she’s a genius. She ended up at Yale. She’s kind of stuck in a boys’ club, but I’m sure she’ll make it.”

“What’s she studying?”

“Science. Biology, mostly, I believe.”

“That’s interesting. She must be a lot like you.”

“Much more logical, I’m afraid. She loves nature, but more in the scientific sense. I’m a hands-on kind of guy, myself.”

“I hope I can meet her one day.”

“You definitely will,” He assures you, taking note of the look on your face. “She’s...very open-minded.”

“How open-minded?”

“Open-minded enough to understand that love is love, no matter who it’s between.”

“I don’t mean to be so disillusioned.”

“You can’t help it, I know. I truly don’t think Jade would care. She’s never had a boyfriend, so it’s possible that she-”

“Or she’s just focused on her studies. I never had anyone until we met. Everything was all about Stanford.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“And it still isn’t your fault. Sometimes things don’t work out. Working for Bro meant meeting you, so I’m not upset about it. Everything happens for a reason.”

Your mind flickers back to the draft letter in his hand, the image still fresh.

“Not everything,” He corrects you, as if reading your mind.

A silence settles between you, not quite comfortable. He breaks it a moment later by asking if you want to produce some lunch. You start digging through the bag, relieved for the break in conversation.

You just hope he’ll have more to say in his letters home.

 

Dave flops down on your bed, looking defeated. You shut the door behind you, and he groans.

“I’ll miss your dad’s cooking the most,” He says, “Sorry.”

“That’s fair,” You answer, flopping down beside him. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out or anything?”

“Don’t want to go anywhere I can’t do this,” He says, then kisses you. It’s cheesy, but you still find yourself melting for it.

“I guess you shouldn’t go to Vietnam, then.”

He laughs, surprising you. You figured he’d argue. “You won’t be there, so I don’t gotta worry about it.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are. All you’ve been is worried. But I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll write every month, and I’ll be home before you know it.”

“It’s so easy for you to say that. And it’s going to go by fast for you, since you’ll be literally fighting a war. I’ll just be at home, toiling away and swooning over the pictures you send home.”

“You’re so dramatic. I doubt there will be any swooning involved. You could always come with me.” He grins at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t think so.”

“You have college, anyway. You’ll be studying so hard you won’t even remember me. I’ll be begging you to spare some time and write me a letter, but you’ll be so caught up in academia that you’ll forget I exist.”

“You’re the one being dramatic.I made time for you in high school, I think I can spare an hour to write a letter.”

“I don’t know, you might join one of those student organizations that protest the war.”

You bite your tongue. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered it. If protesting the war meant your boyfriend would come home, then you’d protest your heart out.

“Don’t do that,” He says, turning to look at you. “I’m serious. No matter how bad you think the war is. I know you don’t agree with me, but-”

“I’m not just going to blindly do what you tell me to do.”

“John, I don’t want you to get arrested. This isn’t about my pride or my opinions, this is about your safety.”

“Oh,” You blush, “Sorry for yelling.”

“You better be,” He chides, but his tone is mocking. 

You immediately relax.

He stands up, “You know what? I changed my mind. Let’s go to the diner, I’ll pay.”

“We just had dinner. And I can’t let you pay when you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Nothing wrong with a little dessert. And what use is my money in Vietnam? All I want right now is to take you out, so let’s go. We can walk to my house and take the truck.”

“What about the kissing?”

“Plenty of time for that when we get back here.” He winks.

Sometimes he’s too charming for his own good. And sometimes he’s the lamest person you’ve ever met. But right now, there’s nothing to do but grab your jacket and follow him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for how much sheer dialogue makes up this story. It's my favorite thing to write, so I tend to overdo it. Maybe. I don't know. But also, everyone is sad, so pay attention to that instead.


	4. oh mother || july 1965

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start crying on the first word, body wracking with sobs by time you finish.  
> It’s going to be a long war.

_Dear John,_

_So, things are pretty cool here. I’m having a better time than you probably think I am. I hope you’re getting ready for Berkeley, whatever that entails. I’ve made a couple friends, who aren’t as...free thinking as I would like, but it’s about what I expected. No one’s died yet, I thought you might be happy to hear that. Tell that to your anti-war friends. It’s super hot, obviously, but no hotter than Texas summers were. I mean, it’s probably a little hotter, but I’m trying to make sure you know I’m okay._

_The thing is, I really feel like I’m helping people. A lot of the villagers and stuff are scared of us, which is understandable, but I like how it feels whenever we evacuate kids from places and they look at us like we’re heroes._

_And, honestly, I feel like a goddamn hero. And that’s what helps me sleep at night. I hope you enjoy(ed) the fourth. I’m sending this before it happens, but you probably won’t get it until after._

_I’ll admit I have no idea how the postal service works._

_L,  
Dave_

You feels like your heart swells when you read the letter. You do get it before the Fourth, by some miracle of God. And you immediately head to Dave’s brother’s afterward. His roommate left with the war, too, so it’s been nice to be with someone who understands the loneliness. Even if Dirk doesn’t necessarily know the...depth of your relationship with Dave.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” Dirk says, turning on the television but muting the volume. The news plays in the background, reporting on some kind of plane crash. You assure yourself you’re not a bad person for ignoring it. You’re worried enough about Dave, you don’t need the lives of strangers on top of that. 

“I really appreciate it. I was just wondering if you could...help me prepare for college. I know you didn’t get to go, and I’m really sorry, but I’m kinda going in blind here.”

“I’m more than happy to help. I’m a little sore over it still, but I’ll get over it. No worries. It really isn’t hard to get ready for, though. Are you excited?”

“I’m really excited,” You say, pausing. “A little worried. About Dave, I mean.”

“I’m worried about him, too,” Dirk says, “And Jake, of course.”

“Have you heard from him yet?”

“No,” Dirk chews on his lip, looking nervous.

“I got a letter from Dave today, so I’m sure he’ll write you soon. You know how he gets when he’s excited about something.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Dirk says, “I’m sure he just hasn’t had a lot of time. I haven’t checked the mail yet today, either, so I could have a letter.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t looked. I’ve been holding my breath since I watched him leave.” You stop, wondering if that was too...clingy. You laugh uncomfortably, “You know, since he’s my best friend. My only friend, really. I just...wish I had friends.”

Dirk looks at you like he’s concerned, but more for your mental state than your intentions for Dave. So that’s good. There’s an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, and then Dirk finally breaks it.

“Do you have any plans for the Fourth?”

“Not really,” You shrug.

“Like I said, you’re always welcome here.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure my dad wants to do something. He fought in Korea until my mom died, so it’s kind of a big deal to him. We’ll probably just go to dinner, or something, but that’s kind of his day.”

 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you struggle to pretend you’re not disappointed.

“I understand. I just don’t want you to be at home, alone, worrying about Dave.” You say. Just like you’ll be at home, alone, worrying about Jake.

Before he’d left, he’d encouraged you to find someone else. Just to keep you company while he was gone. You’d blatantly refused. You weren’t a cheater.

You and John make a list of all the stuff he needs to take when he leaves, and then runs home. He invites you to dinner with his father, but you politely decline. It’s only then that you allow yourself to walk to the mailbox, forcing yourself not to run. 

There’s a letter from Dave, but you toss it aside for closer examination later. You’re thrilled to see one from Jake underneath, his loopy scrawl decorating the outside with your name.

 

_Dirk,_

_I know we boohooed about my having to leave for hours upon hours, but I really am enjoying myself! I’ve befriended two of the nurses, Roxy and Jane, and I’ve been having a phenomenal time talking with them. They’re lovely ladies. (Not that they’re any match for you.)_

_Vietnam is beautiful, as expected. It quite reminds me of our vacations with my grandfather when we were younger. Exotic. Lots of jungle. It’s right up my alley. Some of the boys doubted me at first, but they seem pretty impressed with my ability to navigate rainforest. Who knew camping was useful?_

_I’m not going to say that I’m thankful for the draft, because I’m not, but I am thankful for how well things are going so far. I’m beginning to think we may have just been disillusioned. Yes, there has been violence, but nowhere near as much as we were informed. It’s a war, not an absolute massacre._

_I don’t know, maybe I’m doing the right thing? It’s a moral dilemma, alright, but I’m trying not to think about it too hard. It’s not what I would have chosen for myself, but it’s an interesting experience._

_I do miss you, though. And I’m glad we went camping before my departure, despite your...unwillingness to truly commit to nature. You did well. I wouldn’t have wanted that night any other way. Your brother and I crossed paths some time ago, perhaps in June, but he didn’t seem to recognize me. I told him I was your roommate, and he seemed happy to hear about you. You should really write him when you get the chance._

_I love you.  
Jake_

You start crying on the first word, body wracking with sobs by time you finish.

It’s going to be a long war.

 

Your name is Vriska Serket, and Nepeta’s blatherings about Karkat are beginning to get on your last nerve.

“He just has the most beautiful brown eyes,” She chitters, and you file it away as background noise, tuning out until she asks a question.

She cuffs you on the shoulder when you don’t answer, and you turn to her in shock.

“I asked if you had any plans for the Fourth.” Nepeta growls.

“No, I don’t,” You roll your eyes, “Geez.”

Normally, you would be on your way to the summer house with the Amporas, but you and his mother had agreed it just didn’t seem right without him there. His father had been a little disappointed, excited for the fishing part of the trip, but he would have chances all throughout summer and even months into fall. Hopefully Eridan would be home soon enough to accompany him.

“I’m throwing a party. I invited Karkat, and he invited his friend Sollux, who invited his friend Feferi. And I’m inviting you. There should be some other people there. I also invited a girl in my philosophy class, but she doesn’t seem like the type who enjoys...wholesome gatherings, if you catch my drift.”

“No one enjoys wholesome gatherings anymore, Nep. You’re very much in the minority in that one.”

“Karkat enjoys wholesome gatherings,” She says, suddenly all moony-eyed again. “Just last week I went to his house and played Trouble with his older brother.”

“‘Trouble’ doesn’t sound very wholesome to me. And you playing ‘Trouble’ with both him and his older brother seems outright scandalous.”

“Vriska!” She shrieks, turning bright pink, “Get your mind out of the mud. It’s a new board game.”

“Sounds boring. Have you checked the mail today?”

“No, do you want me to?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it,” You assure her, looking for any kind of escape from the Karkat Chronicles. You may just be bitter that your boyfriend is across the world, but anyone would get sick of hearing about some loser they’d never even met. 

The walk to the mailbox is hot. You curse yourself for wearing jeans outside, but you continue your march regardless. You’re not expecting much when you get the mail, maybe a few bills, a holiday card from Nepeta’s sister’s family.

Your heart stops when you see Eridan’s name on one of the letters. You sink to the ground by the mailbox, ripping the letter open with shaky fingers.

_Dear Vris,_

_You are all I can think about in this miserable heat, miserable jungle, miserable existence. I have never had to work a day in my life, you were always right when you said that, and now I’m experiencing the severest of disadvantages because of it. There’s a guy in my thing (Unit? Squad? I don’t fucking know) that is so gung ho to be here. He’s always rattling on and on about his childhood, camping with his cousin, blah blah blah. You’d hate him._

_I hope you’re not going too wild without me there. Just remember you’re committed to me. I know you’re faithful, I just don’t trust those other guys around campus. Not that they can handle a girl who only washes her hair once a month._

_I’m kidding please don’t stop reading._

_I really am head over heels in love with you. I know we’ve never been much for sappy stuff like that, but if this has given me anything, it’s given me the opportunity to think about what I have. And what I have is the most spectacular, beautiful, amazing thing in existence. I have you. No one else can say that. And I’ll make damn well sure of that._

_I don’t have much to report on, war-wise. It’s pretty much what you’d expect. I hate being here, I can’t wait to come home. I’m trying to be on my best behavior in case they relieve in order of most quiet and respectful._

_You know I’ve always had a few problems with respect, though._

_Anyway, I just want to say again that I love you. And I miss you. And I can’t wait to come home and marry the hell out of you._

_I want to hear all about the wedding plans._

_Love,  
Eridan Ampora _

You find yourself lying in the grass for another hour, simultaneously feeling like you’re floating on air and like you’ve been crushed by an oversized hammer. You only get up when Nepeta comes outside to check on you. She sees letter in your hand and holds her arms open for a hug.

For one of the first times in your friendship, you accept her offer and let her hold you. You even shift lower to bury your face in her shoulder.

She’s the best friend you’ve ever had. 

Besides Eridan, at least.

 

Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and when you wake up on the Fourth of July, the only thing you can think about is the party. And seeing Karkat. And meeting his friends. And him meeting your friends. It’s all very romantic and you find yourself dancing into your clothes as you get ready, blushing and forcing yourself to remove the tiniest bit of pep from your step. Just to keep from breaking an arm while pulling on your skirt, of course.

It’s at your sister’s house, which is only a few miles from your house. And, of course, some of her weird friends are wandering around, but they’ll probably stay inside and focus on getting as high as remotely possible. Your portion of the party will stay outside, hopefully far away from any...mind-altering substances. 

Vriska shows up first, which doesn’t surprise you at all. She’s an hour early, holding a plate of cookies that you purse your lips at, knowing that Vriska is incapable of handling an oven.

“Eridan’s mother made them,” She explains, “We were having wedding talks before I came.”

That would explain her outfit, a tasteful, knee-length white dress. No tears or stains. And her hair, which is twisted up into some sort of updo. As if reading your mind, she reaches up to let it down, and you watch with fascination as it flutters to the small of her back.

You’ve never understood how she can handle so much hair.

She helps you decorate for the party, hanging streamers on the side of the house. Meulin wanders out at some point to check your progress and thieve a couple of cookies, but she doesn’t say much. She’s always seemed nervous around Vriska, for whatever reason. 

Karkat arrives right on time, along with a few of the friends you invited from school. You immediately run over to greet him, trying to keep a handle on your enthusiasm. You didn’t want to seem too desperate, after all.

“Welcome, thank you for coming!” You flash a grin to the group, including that girl from your philosophy class. Having her around does make you a little nervous, but you simply assure yourself that she wouldn’t have come if she wanted...that kind of party.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Karkat says, looking a little embarrassed.

“When are your friends coming?”

“Sollux and Feferi should be here soon. I’m sure they got caught up doing chemistry homework. Or something.”

“I just feel bad that you don’t know anyone here.”

“I know Vriska,” He says, but you know he isn’t going to go strike up a conversation with her. Besides, she seems wrapped up in a conversation with the girl you’re so nervous about.

You’ll definitely have to keep an eye on that. 

“Speaking of Vriska, her fiance’s mother was kind enough to send some very good cookies over with her. You should definitely try them.”

You lead him to the table, which is piled with snacks of all sorts. You had the tendency to go a little overboard when it came to social gatherings.

He takes one from the plate, looking shocked as he takes a bite. “These are great. Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. Thank Mrs. Ampora.”

“If I knew her, I would.”

You mentally smack yourself. Thankfully, a boy you don’t recognize walks into the yard, hand in hand with a girl that you recognize from one of your government classes.

“Is that Sollux?” You ask, and Karkat nods.

“Before you speak to him,” He sighs, “Be warned that he is not the most...polite person I have ever met.”

“Noted.”

He bounds over to Karkat as soon as he sees him, dragging the girl behind him. He turns to speak to you first.

“I’m Sollux, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” He smiles, and you’re impressed with his manners so far. Karkat had set him up for failure, after all.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, as well. I’m Nepeta. Thank you for coming, especially on such short notice.”

“It’s really no problem,” The girl chimes in. “My father had invited us to a dinner, but I didn’t exactly want to go. This was very convenient. My name is Feferi, by the way. I think we had Professor Scratch’s class together?”

That would be the one. “You’re right! I wondered where I recognized you from.”

“I’ve been to a few of your club meetings, as well, but it’s hard to pick out faces in the crowd. I’m just so glad to meet you.”

Vriska crosses the yard to join the conversation, quickly introducing herself. Sollux squints, appearing to scrutinize her for a moment.

“Have we met before?” He asks.

“Um...maybe,” She says, “It’s difficult to say.”

He squints harder. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Feferi looks vaguely scandalized and Vriska laughs nervously.

“Yes.”

“That’s it. You’re with Ampora, aren’t you?”

She nods, this time, not bothering to verbalize her answer. Feferi calms visibly, and you heave a deep sigh.

“We roomed together when I went to Stanford. Before I transferred to Berkeley. He had you over sometimes.”

“Now that you say that, you do look familiar. He graduated a year ago, so that was...some time ago.”

“He was the worst.”

Vriska suddenly becomes fascinated with the ground, and you can tell she’s struggling not to cry. She’s always been weird when it comes to showing emotion in front of others, and normally it’s channeled into an ugly kind of aggression, but she clearly doesn’t have the energy.

“He’s in Vietnam, actually.” You cut in, giving Sollux a deadly look. Even if he’s Karkat’s friend, you’re not up for the idea of him hurting Vriska. “He was drafted a couple months ago. Vriska got her first letter from him a few days ago. It’s been a very emotional time for everyone.”

You barely notice Feferi pinch Sollux’s arm, and he turns to Vriska. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m also sorry for what I said.”

“Sollux isn’t known for being especially tactful,” Karkat supplies.

“Clearly,” You chirp, and the party moves on.

All in all, it’s a wonderful night. After the initial awkwardness, everyone begins to have a good time. There’s dancing and eating and talking, and at the end of the night, you can see the fireworks they’re setting off in town.

You couldn’t have asked for a better Fourth of July.

Especially when, bathed in the red light of the fireworks, Karkat kisses you like no one else is around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading again. I am so fascinated by this time period. And it just makes me super happy to cultivate an interest in others.


	5. please allow me to introduce myself || september 1965

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm spoken for."  
> "Where's he, then?"  
> "Vietnam."

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re kind of relieved to be back at school. The summer flew by, between dates with Nepeta and studying up for your senior year and even attending a few protests. She’d changed you, that’s for sure, but you’re beginning to think it was for the better.

Regardless of what your brother has to say about it.

“I’m just saying, Karkat, she runs around with that band of hippies of hers and I don’t approve,” Kankri had sniffled at the last dinner the two of you had before you’d returned to Berkeley.

“What ‘band of hippies?’” You’d asked, rolling your eyes.

“You know which band of hippies.”

“Nepeta has one friend.”

“And she’s a hippie, Karkat.”

The rest of the conversation had been like pulling teeth. Kankri would like Nepeta, you know, if he would give her a chance. She isn’t one of the violent, America-hating protesters. She’s someone who truly cares about making a difference.

And you admire her for that more than anything.

On the first day of classes, you walk halfway across campus to escort her to her economics class, one that she informs you she isn’t looking forward to on the way. 

“You’ll still do well,” You assure her, “You’re practically a genius.”

She blushes, looking towards the ground. “Thank you. Are you ready for our meeting tomorrow night?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“I’ve had a lot of freshmen ask me about it already. It’s nice to have some younger students taking an interest in politics so young. It gives me a lot of hope for the future.”

You are always stunned by how optimistic she can be in such a trying time. “I hope they share your viewpoints on things, or you won’t be so hopeful.”

“That’s true,” She admits, chewing on her lower lip. “Anyway, I’m only a few minutes early, and I want a seat in the front. So I need to get going.” 

She squeezes your hand briefly, then dashes away.

You have to sprint to make it to your English class on time, but the seat in the back is worth the extra time you got to spend with her. 

After class is over, you meet Sollux on the lawn for your annual (which, by mid-month, will be become at least weekly) coffee shop visit. Once the two of you are seated inside, he begins talking.

“So, I met Feferi’s father last week.”

“And how is the elusive Mr. Peixes?”

“He’s not just a war supporter, Karkat. He’s some big deal, big time general. That’s why she’s been so weird about me meeting him.”

“Oh, man. That sounds like a fun dinner.”

“It actually was. Until Feferi accosted him about the war and they got in a full blown argument that I felt caught in the middle of.”

“She should join Nepeta and Vriska’s club.”

“Believe me, she will. After Nepeta’s party, all she could talk about was ‘the cause.’ And how some girl was shooting up in the bathroom, but I figured that wasn’t Nepeta’s fault.”

“Jesus, seriously? Who was it?”

“All Feferi said was that she was blonde and wore a lot of eye makeup. And then she was content to move on. You know how she is.”

“Ditzy?”

“I was going to say easily distracted.”

“Anyway, how was your first day of classes?”

“Unfortunately boring, as usual. I’m just ready to get this year over and get a real job.”

“Or get drafted.”

“The war won’t last that long,” Sollux snorts, “Are you dumb?”   
“I don’t think I’m the dumb one. We’re escalating it a whole lot for something that isn’t going to last for another year.”

“You talk to Nepeta too much.”

“You listen to Feferi too little.”

He raises his eyebrows, not saying a word as he sips at his coffee. 

You forget sometimes how easily offended someone so bristly can be.

 

Your name is John Egbert, and your father is supposed to be sending all your mail to Berkeley with you, but after weeks of no mail, you’re losing hope.

Hope is restored when you finally see a thin envelope tucked away for you, and you extract it as if it’s a newborn baby. Dave’s scrawl is scratched across the outside, along with some stray drawings of trees.

_ Dear John, _

_ Sorry about the trees. I got bored before bed one night. Things are no longer so peachy keen. I really miss you and I really miss home. _

_ I got in a big argument with some of the guys the other day about “queers” and now they’ve branded me as an untouchable, so I have no friends in Vietnam. Which is an unfortunate place to have no friends. And...things are a lot less tame than I thought they were. The things I’m seeing are kind of horrible and I’m starting to wish I’d applied to Berkeley after all. _

_ I’m glad to hear that Dirk’s been helping you prepare for college, and I’m sorry he’s been kind of distant. His letters have seemed the same way. I think it’s because Jake left for the war. Dirk never had many friends until he and Jake met.  _

_ Sometimes I wonder if they’re like us, but I worry about how Dirk would react if they weren’t. So I never asked. I recommend you don’t either. _

_ I hope your classes are going well. If they’ve started. I really do want to hear all about it. Teach me something in your next letter so I’ll be of some use once I get home.  _

_ I’ve been thinking a lot about home and a lot about the last night we spent together. I really miss you. I know I already said that, but it’s still true. It won’t stop being true until I’m back home and I can see you with my own two eyes. _

_ I’m rambling, I can tell. Sorry I never have much to say. To be honest, I don’t really want to tell you everything that’s going on over here. You’re better off not knowing. And I’d probably get in trouble for divulging too much. _

_ Just make sure you’re watching the news. And that club might not be a bad idea after all. _

_ Love, _

_ Dave _

You tear up reading, but not like you did the first time. You tuck it into your pocket and trudge back to your dorm, pulling a shoebox from underneath your desk and letting the letter flutter to the bottom. You’d resolved to keep all Dave’s letters for...some reason. It’s not like you could ever show your kids. But you just felt an innate desire to keep them.

Your roommate is nice, so far. He’s a freshman, too, and all he really does is study and play cards. Sometimes the two of you play together, and it’s nice to have company. You miss Dave, and to a lesser extent, Dirk. It’s strange to be in a place where you know next to no one. So you’ve basically been glued to your roommate’s side.

He returns shortly after you do, flashing a smile as he walks in the door.

“How was your first day?” He asks, collapsing onto his bed and reaching for the book that rests on his bedside table.

“It was okay. A lot different from high school.”

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?” He asks, laughing.

“Not at all.”

“Hey, have you heard of that anti-war club or whatever?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Are you gonna go to their meeting tomorrow night?”

“I was thinking about it.”

“Yeah, so am I. I keep bumping into one of the girls who runs it and she really scares me, so I’m really doing it just to get her to leave me alone. But…”

“My best friend went to Vietnam,” You say, and it slips easily off your tongue. You’re surprised. “So it’s not my favorite thing in the world.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. He wrote me a letter today, we’ll get through it.”

“I mean, everything has to come to an end, right?” He asks.

“Right,” You say, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself.

 

Your name is Vriska Serket, and Rose is over at the apartment whenever the mail truck comes along. She looks expectantly at the door, and you take that as permission to run outside and grab it. You don’t allow yourself to open it at the mailbox this time, not after the hour or so you spent sitting there last time.

When you return to the apartment, Rose is lounging on your couch, her bag resting against the table. You can see the corner of a plastic bag sticking out, but you brush it off.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” She asks, voice flat.

“I thought I’d do it in private.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. Your boyfriend wrote you a letter, open it. If you get too emotional, I can let myself out.”

You follow her instructions, ripping open the top of the envelope and extracting the paper from inside with a laughable amount of vigor. 

_ Vris, _

_ Things are just as terrible as last time. I am unbelievably bored and also traumatized and also missing you. I don’t have much to say about my life other than that. _

_ I’m not sure about this girl you’ve started hanging out with. From what you’ve told me, she sounds a little too...different. And I know that’s a lot, coming from me. But I just don’t trust it. _

_ Just be careful, that’s all I ask. _

_ I’m a fan of having the wedding in Cape Cod, but I think you need to think about whether or not everyone will be able to make it there to see it. My mother has you swept up in the ideas of a beach wedding where you can wear your hair down to your feet with no shoes on, I’m sure, but is that worth Nepeta or your parents or anyone else not being able to attend? _

_ We have to be logical about this. _

_ Keep thinking about the wedding, babe. I’ll be home before you know it. _

_ Love, _

_ Eridan _

It’s short, but it’s still enough to make you feel a little better about his absence. You spare a glance at Rose, wondering why both Eridan and Nepeta are so wary of her. It’s not like she was a murderer or anything.

“So, how is he?” She asks, interrupting your silent judgement.

“About the same,” You shrug. “He hates it.”

“I look forward to meeting him when he comes home.”

“I look forward to seeing him again.”

“I know a way to pass the time,” She says, rifling through her bag.

When she pulls out a needle, you open your mouth to protest, shocked when you close it again.

_ Fuck it. _

She’s delighted when you accept her offer.

 

Your latest letter from Jake sits unopened on the store counter. You promised yourself you’d finished dusting the shelves before you read it, and you’d finally finished dusting. 

_ Dirk, _

_ I am continuously blown away by how much I’m enjoying this. I’ve started wondering if I might be a sadist, but it isn’t the inflicting harm on others that I enjoy. It’s the traveling and the friendship and everything. I still miss you, of course, but I’d love to bring you to Vietnam one day. When it isn’t so war-torn, of course. It’s beautiful. _

_ Roxy and Jane send their love. I’ve told them a lot about you, and they might just have a crush on you. They don’t know the depth of our relationship, and Roxy wants to start writing you, so don’t be too mean to her when you turn her down. _

_ Stop worrying so much! I haven’t been very much in harm’s way so far, and I doubt it will get much worse. This isn’t so much as a war as it is a conflict. Everything’s being blown much out of proportion. _

_ I’m running out of time to write this, but I do want to praise you for spending so much time with John in Dave’s absence. I’m sure they’re going through the same thing we are, although not to the same exact...level. I hope you enjoy your September. I look forward to hearing from you soon. _

_ I love you. _

_ Jake _

You’ve just started your third time reading the letter, tracing Jake’s loopy handwriting, when someone clears their throat. You look up to see a man with slicked back hair, an elbow propped on the counter. He’s entirely too close to you.

“Can I help you?” You ask, and he nods.

“I think so. I’m looking for a nice guy to take out tonight, and I saw you through the shop window and thought you might be the right choice.”

“Look, I don’t know where you’re from, but you should be careful saying shit like that out here. You’re going to get punched.”

“Forgive me, I just got back in town. I take it that my assumption wasn’t incorrect, since you’re not the one doing the punching?”

“I’m spoken for.”

“Where’s he, then?”

“Vietnam.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“He’s the love of my life.”

“Forgive me, then,” He rolls his eyes, tapping a finger on the counter. “If you ever get sick of waiting around for your Prince Charming, find me. My name’s Cronus Ampora.”

“I’m Dirk Strider. Be careful out here.”

“Got it, champ.” He says, leaving without another word.

You’d be lying if you said he didn’t pique your interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you for reading. I may not post for a week or two, I'm going to New York for a band trip over Thanksgiving and it's going to be really time consuming! I appreciate all the nice comments and kudos and everything <3


	6. your whole world is black || october 1965

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I worry about Dave all the time.”

Cronus has taken to showing up at the store at least five days out of the week, but you’d be lying if you said you hated having company. Jake hadn’t written this month, and truth be told, his newfound patriotism was rubbing you the wrong way. You catch yourself complaining to Cronus one day, and he listens intently, leaned up against the counter. You’ve offered him a chair before, but he seems to prefer the leaning. 

At this point, you’re taking his quirks in stride. He dresses like he’s stuck in the 50’s and he always stinks of hair gel and cigarettes, but you can’t penalize him for either, considering you’re not exactly the pinnacle of ordinary. He hasn’t scared any customers away, (yet) so you’ve allowed him to loiter.

“I don’t mean to offend you,” Cronus says as you finish out your story, “But are you sure he hasn’t shacked up with one of those nurses he’s always blabbering on about?”

You’d never even considered it.

“I was, because I hadn’t thought about it,” You groan, “I want to trust him. I do. But he’s so different since he left. He was always into camping and like…’rugged’ things, but I never pictured him in the military, and he loves it.”

“I’m just saying, he probably gets mighty lonely over there. And with those chicks throwing themselves at him...what else is a guy to do?”

“I don’t know. Ignore it? That’s what I would do.”

“Duh,” He snorts, “You’re a queer.”

“So are you.”

“You would think your boyfriend would be.”

“I don’t know. I think I might be...an exception, or something. There’s never been anyone before me for him.”

“And there’s been someone before him for you?”

“No. But that’s mostly because we’ve been friends since we were kids and I’ve been interested in him as long as I can remember. He didn’t return those feelings until we were almost through high school. And he treated it like it was such a peculiar thing for him.”

“So he’s wishy-washy. I still think you should dump him.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not going to  _ dump  _ him, especially when he’s in Vietnam and I’d have to do it over a letter. That would be heartbreaking for him.”

“And not hearing from him isn’t breaking your heart?”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“I think a date with me could cheer you up real quick.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, I don’t like this subject either.”

“You’ll cave one day. Especially once you give up on that army man of yours. He’s going to come back all fucked up with the ideals they’re feeding him over there. Can you really stay with someone who’s taken a human life?”

“If he doesn’t have a choice, yes.”

A customer enters before Cronus has a chance to say anything else. You go to assist them, leaving Cronus propped on the counter. They’re looking for a part to a car that is, apparently, ridiculously rare. You find it immediately and resist the urge to tell them that it’s pretty easy to find if you know where to look, hoping they’ll think you’re some sort of automobile expert. You don’t have many repeat customers, mostly because people tend to gravitate toward brand names and chain stores.

But you make a living.

They leave and you return to the counter, hoping Cronus has moved on from Jake and towards something that doesn’t involve the two of you getting together. He starts going on about how his parents got a new car, recently, and you send silent thanks to the heavens.

“Hey,” You say, as he finishes the story, “Are you looking for a job, per chance?”

“I could be if you need something from me,” He says.

“I won’t be able to pay much, but it would be really helpful to have someone else around, especially since Dave isn’t here to help me out every now and then.”

“Why not? I’m here all the time anyway.”

You shake hands like business partners would, and you push away the idea that you might have made a mistake.

Cronus isn’t your type, but he could be. If you got lonely enough. And you sure are getting desperate.

 

Your hands shake and Rose laughs, a sound you’ve come to love and hate. It sounds like bells when you’re on grass, but sounds like nails on a chalkboard when it’s smack. Thankfully, it’s just grass right now, so it doesn’t make you want to rip off your own ears.

“Vris, chill out,” She murmurs, laying back on the floor. 

“I am chill,” You say back, still fixated on your own hands. 

A letter from Eridan lays discarded on the table and you pick it up again, struggling to read it in your current state.

_ Vris, _

_ I know you think that you’re exploring this whole new side of yourself and fighting the good fight or whatever, but I am begging you to stop doing...whatever it is you’re doing. The last letter you wrote to me made no fucking sense and I am this close to writing your parents and letting them know what you’re up to. I’m worried about you, and it would be one thing if you were doing this shit while I was at home to stop you, but I can’t do anything about it. _

_ I want to be able to communicate with you, not get a letter with a bunch of scribbles and holes in the paper and wonder what the fuck you were on at the time because even you can’t remember. _

_ Don’t ruin everything we’ve worked for, Vriska. I’m begging you. You’ve never been stupid. Talk to Nepeta, talk to her friends, talk to my parents. Stop hanging out with this girl. Please. _

_ I’ll be home before you know it. Find a better way to pass the time. You could study or get a job or take up knitting for all I care. Learn guitar. We’ll start a band. I know you’d love that.  _

_ There are other ways to fight the establishment. This isn’t good for you or for me or for anyone. Stop while you’re ahead. Please. _

_ I still love you. I always will. But I want to have someone to come home to. _

_ Love, _

_ Eridan _

You don’t know how much time passes while you read, but Rose snatches it out of your hand before you can make any sense of the words. She reads it out loud to you, but you still can’t quite understand. She rolls her eyes at points, making her tone higher to mock him.

You don’t like the way she makes fun of him, but you don’t want to say anything. You just want to lay down and feel the carpet and maybe have some cookies. You should call Eridan’s mom and ask her to make you some more.

You haven’t talked to her since August. And you have so much to get done for the wedding. 

You lose your train of thought when you hear the rattle of keys in the lock, and when Nepeta steps inside she looks shocked, then angry.

“Get the fuck out, and take your drugs with you,” She growls at Rose, and you think about defending her but decide not to. Not after she made fun of Eridan.

“Buzzkill,” Rose spits, gathering her stuff and dumping it into her bag. She throws it over her shoulder and storms out of your apartment, leaving you on the floor and Nepeta looming over you.

She’s in one of her long skirts, the kind that gather leaves when she doesn’t pay attention on campus. 

“What are you on?” She asks, snapping her fingers in front of your face. 

“Grass,” You mutter, preparing yourself to hear her yell.

“Don’t smoke that shit in here!” Her voice is shrill, and her face is red. You feel pretty disappointed in yourself. “Or at all.”

“Calm down, mom,” You roll your eyes.

“Vriska, I swear to god if I catch you doing that again, I’ll kick you out. I swear.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Because you’re never around and when you are you’re high and I miss having a best friend who’s actually fucking coherent and doesn’t stink up my house with smoke.”

“I’ll stop,” You groan. You might not. You just want to stop the yelling.

“You bet you will. You’re spending every waking second with me until I can trust you again. Let me know when you have class, I’ll walk with you. And you’re not talking to Rose anymore.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, I can’t? Sure seems like Rose can.”

You look away, irritated that she’s kind of right. Her screaming has brought you down a whole lot, and you sigh as she stares at you, still fuming.

“Hey,” You say, voice soft, “Can you read me that letter? I...can’t, right now. And I think it’s important.”

She picks it up from the floor where Rose left it, and starts from the beginning. She stops when you ask and reads it over, taking it slow and making sure you understand.

“We’re worried about you,” She says when she finishes.

“I’ll stop. I really will.”

“I’m still not leaving your side.”

Silence settles again, and five minutes must pass before you break it.

“Thank you.”

She just exhales, exhausted, and pulls you in for a hug.

 

You’re back home for the weekend and when your dad finally finishes stuffing you full of a welcome home dinner, you find yourself wandering over to the Striders’ store to see Dirk. You’d gotten a letter from Dave that morning, all about how much he hates being in Vietnam and wants to come home and see you. It’s almost pathetic, to see the way he’s changed. It breaks your heart. You hated his enthusiasm for the war, but seeing him broken like this is much worse. Even if you never agreed with him, seeing him fired up about something was always one of your favorite things about him.

A bell announces your arrival when you open the door, and Dirk stands behind the counter, talking to some guy with slicked back hair and rolled up jeans. You wonder, momentarily, if you stepped into a time machine or something. 

“John!” Dirk says, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.”

“It was kind of spur of the moment, but it’s my dad’s birthday on Sunday, so I wanted to spend it with him. And I don’t have any classes on Monday, so that gives me a whole day to get back.” You shrug. “I thought I’d stop by and see you. Have you heard from Dave?”

“Who’s Dave?” The guy asks, and you make a face at his nosiness.

“My little brother,” It surprises you when Dirk answers, sounding unbothered. “Yeah, I got a letter last week. I feel bad for him. But I warned him when he enlisted.”

“I really wish he’d just stop sounding so sad,” You say, “It makes me want to go save him, you know?”

“Believe me, I know. And, hey, this is a random question, but you haven’t heard from Jake, have you?”

“I think he sent my dad a letter a couple of weeks ago. Why?”

“He hasn’t written this month. I’m sure he’s just busy but...I can’t help but worry.”

The look in his eyes reminds you too much of how you feel. Your heart breaks for him. At least Dave sends you letters consistently.

“I worry about Dave all the time.”

“This kid’s gay for your little brother, sorry to break the news,” The guy says, “He sounds just as pathetic as you do when you go on about your guy.”

“Cronus,” Dirk hisses, and you feel your face shift to a confused expression. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t care to know.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Cronus says.

“Are you and Jake…?” You ask before you can stop yourself. You’d just mentally admonished Cronus for his nosiness, but here you were.

Dirk looks down at the counter, and it’s enough of an answer for you.

“I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“I’d say so,” Dirk mutters, “How long…?”

“A long time,” You say, “Probably since ninth grade.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know. Dave...never brought home girls or anything, God, I wish he’d told me.”

“I mean...you know, it’s kind of risky. Just to go around bragging about it.”

“But it kills me to know that now.”

“Tell him. About you and Jake.”

“Why?”

“He gets so scared. Of what you’ll think, and what my dad will think. And what everyone will think. He’s always scared, Dirk. It would comfort him a lot to know he isn’t alone.”

“I will. God, I will. Next time I write him, I promise.”

“I’m glad I could be here to witness such a tender exchange,” Cronus says, and then he turns to you, “Hey, kid, how set are you on this boyfriend of yours?”

“Don’t be disgusting, Cronus,” Dirk groans, “It’s one thing to hit on me, this kid’s like my little brother. Leave him alone.”

“You can’t blame me for giving it a shot.”

You can’t help but smile, and Dirk returns it, looking tired around the eyes but happy nonetheless. 

“So, how’s school going?” He asks.

You immediately start talking, not even sure where to start or where to finish. But you’re happy to finally, finally know someone understands. You just wish you’d found out sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that Rose is actually my favorite character in Homestuck and I just needed a drug dealer character and I'm sorry everyone.  
> I'm also sorry for my extended absence, but I have been crazy, crazy busy.  
> As always, thank you for reading!


	7. who the fuck are you? || november 1965

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, well,” Cronus shrugs, “Eridan always was the golden child. It’s not my fault that they’re scared he’s going to die at war so now they’re trying to make nice.”

Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and on Thanksgiving, you hold a special gathering for everyone whose loved ones are away for the war. There’s quite a few of your club members. Vriska, of course. Karkat is there for support, along with Feferi and Sollux. A freshman who sometimes talks during discussions. Two older men come in with him, and you briefly wonder about the connection before you decide it isn’t your business. None of them look related, although one of them looks...suspiciously familiar.

You have some of your mom’s old records playing softly, and everyone is chattering away. Dinner will be ready in about an hour, and you’re pleased with the way everything is going. Vriska looks a little shaky, still, but she’s much better than she was a month ago. You were starting to get worried. 

She’s the biggest reason you threw this whole celebration together, honestly. You didn’t want her to stay home or invite Rose over or anything. Vriska had always been a fan of the whole rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, but you didn’t think she cultivated an interest in that particular part of it. Until she suddenly did. And now you were set on watching her like a hawk.

You mill about, stopping to converse with a boy in your chemistry class. You don’t know him very well, but he always comes across as very well-spoken in club meetings. He’s in the middle of a story of how his father was drafted when Karkat approaches from behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You’ve been dating for a couple months now. He’s met your family, and much to his brother’s chagrin, you’ve met his as well. Vriska teases you about getting so serious so quickly, but you’re adamant that when you know, you just know. 

You hear the oven go off in the distance, and you excuse yourself to go get it. Moments later, with Karkat’s help and Vriska’s whining, the table is set and everyone is seated. Your dining room is packed tight with people, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You go around the table, naming something you’re thankful for. While Vriska rolls your eyes, you can tell she’s excited to say the word “fiance” when she flushes bright red, a smile breaking across your face.

It goes around the table to the two older men the freshmen brought with him and he takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“I’m thankful for new friends who are willing to stand in as my date while my boyfriend is at war.”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the room, and to your surprise, Karkat is the one to break it.

“Well, I wish you all the luck in your relationship,” Karkat flashes him a shaky smile, and raises his glass. “And personally, I think we should make a toast to love.”

You’ve never been more proud of someone in your whole life. 

Everyone digs in after the toast, and you absorb the compliments on your cooking with what you hope comes off as a casual elegance. It’s going much better than expected. Once everyone is done feasting, several people volunteer to help you with dishes, and you beam at the initiative taken by those around you.

“Since you have so many willing servants, I don’t think you’ll need my assistance this time,” Vriska says, flicking your shoulder playfully. “Especially with that boyfriend of yours at your beck and call. Remember, I’m staying the night, so there’s no room for any funny business between you two.”

“Vriska!” You squeal, scandalized. “There will certainly be no funny business.”

“Calm down, darling. It’s not the fifties anymore,” Vriska rolls her eyes, “I’m just teasing you, anyway.”

You roll your eyes at her, and break away to supervise kitchen duty. You’re worried about them breaking your good plates, so it requires a watchful eye. The job is done in no time with the addition of all the helping hands, and when you return to the living room, the blond boy who gave the speech at dinner is opening a bottle of champagne.

“Well,” You say, eyebrows raised.

“This is okay, right?” He asks, just a little too late to go back.

“It is a special occasion,” You murmur, and upon seeing Vriska’s pleading eyes, you give a short, permissive nod.

The room erupts into cheers.

 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and the champagne bubbles and runs over your hand, but you’re careful to catch the excess with a napkin, not wanting to stain Nepeta’s floor. Cronus helps you, in a rare display of generosity, and he is the one who pours it into glasses. Everyone gets one, in the end, despite the bottle being near empty. You shrug it off, knowing that feeling fancy is sometimes worth the price.

Cronus joins you on the couch in the corner of the room, and the two of you are immersed in conversation when a spindly girl with long, blonde hair approaches you. It’s the one always by Nepeta’s side, and a slow smile spreads across Cronus’ face. 

“I thought it was you,” She says, “But I wasn’t sure until now.”

“Good to see you, Vris,” His grin spreads wider. “Nice to know my brother intends to make an honest woman out of you.”

“I was always an honest woman, you leech, otherwise I wouldn’t have told you to fuck off when you were preying on someone more than five years younger than you.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m afraid I have my eyes set on someone else,” He shoots you a meaningful glance and you roll your eyes.

“Oh, you poor soul,” She turns to look at you, “I’m afraid I caught the dignified one of the family.”

“I’m spoken for, don’t worry about me,” You smile crookedly, but all you can think about is the absence of letters lately. Cronus’ suggestion that Jake has suddenly turned heterosexual and run off with one of the nurses is starting to eat you alive.

“That did not stop Cronus,” She snorts.

“You were not spoken for!” Cronus protests. “You and my brother did not get together until he graduated high school! You were totally fair game.”

“Except that you would have gone to jail, creep,” She rolls her eyes, “Good luck with this one, is all I’m saying.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then her face gets more serious. She looks at Cronus, gesturing between the two of you. “Is this why you moved away?”

“Part of it,” He says, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I just wanted to see what I hadn’t discovered about myself. Nevada was a good place to do it.”

“You could’ve said goodbye,” Vriska says, “They miss you. They talk all the time about how they wish they knew where you are.”

“Yeah, well,” Cronus shrugs, “Eridan always was the golden child. It’s not my fault that they’re scared he’s going to die at war so now they’re trying to make nice.”

Vriska opens her mouth, but closes it again. She walks away before she can respond, and you can’t help but glare at him.

“Why did you say that to her?” You demand.

“She kicked up a lot of my issues,” He shrugs, then stands. “I’m going to smoke.”

You watch him walk out the door, and heave a sigh as you stand up to follow him. When you go outside, he isn’t even smoking, he’s just propped up by his elbows on the railing of the porch.

“They didn’t care about me,” He says, not turning around, “I was weird and different, and when Eridan got older, they put all their effort into raising him. I didn’t turn out the way they wanted, so they gave up.”

“She’s in love with him, Cronus. You don’t need to put the idea of him dying in her head.”

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean to say that. It just happened. Vriska knows how to push my buttons, we all grew up together. I shouldn’t have let her get to me. He’s my brother, I don’t want him to die, blah blah blah. I just wish that my parents had treated me the way they treat him.”

You cross the porch, counting your steps as you go. You slump over next to him, forearms braced against the wooden railing. Your arms brush against each other, and he lets out a shaky breath.

“I’ve just never been more confused in my life,” He laughs, “My family hates me already, I’m giving them yet another reason to hate me, and I’m in love with you.”

“You’re not in love with me,” You shake your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I know you think you are, but you’re not.”

“You can’t tell me how I feel about you, Dirk,” He flashes you a pained smile, “I am. I have been since I saw you, even more since we started spending time together.”

“You can’t say that to me right now,” You turn around, leaning up against the side of the house. You can hear the music faintly through the walls. It’s hard to think about John on the other side of the wall, ecstatic from reading the latest letter from Dave and having a good time despite everything he’s dealing with. Nothing like your constant moping.

“Why can’t I?” He asks, turning around to face you again. He looks determined, now.

“Because I could be in love with you,” You say before you can stop yourself, “If Jake wasn’t…”

He steps closer to you, caging you in against the side of the house. You feel your heart speed up, and he puts a hand beside your head, like in the movies.

“I think you  _ are  _ in love with me.”

You don’t say no. You don’t say anything.

When he leans in and kisses you, you don’t push him off. You don’t even say no.

In fact, you kiss him back.

  
Your name is Vriska Serket, and the only thing you can think is just  _ fuck it  _ over and over and over as you shove the needle into your arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry dirkjake shippers. I hate happiness.  
> This is a much shorter chapter, but there just isn't much going on with the other couples at this very moment. Sorry!


	8. it's been a hard day's night || december 1965

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my god,” You gasp, carding a hand through your hair, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”  
> “I’m really sorry, I have to go. I’ll make sure you’re informed of funeral arrangements.”

Your name is Vriska Serket and you think it might be Christmas but your vision is blurring and there’s a letter on the floor and you can’t see it but maybe it’s from Eridan or your mom you haven’t heard from your mom maybe Eridan’s mom you need to buy a wedding dress you need to sample cake you need to do so much but you want Eridan’s input first when will he come home will he ever come home is he dead already no of course not he just sent you a letter silly but it’s Christmas and he isn’t home and you thought he’d be home by Christmas and he isn’t so maybe he is dead and you think you might be dead and everything is going black and Nepeta runs in and grabs your arm and she’s screaming and you open your mouth to scream but you can’t hear yourself and everything is black.

 

_ Vris, _

_ Your last letter wasn’t very coherent, and I’m starting to worry again. What have you been doing lately? Nepeta wrote me a few weeks ago to say she’s worried about you, which definitely doesn’t help things. _

_ I have a surprise for you, but I’m not sure if you’ll even read this. So. I’ll see you soon, if you do. _

_ I’m not really sure what to say to you when I can’t read the last things you said to me. _

_ Please write soon. Soberly and coherently. _

_ Love, _

_ Eridan _

 

You opened a letter from Dave this morning, but it only served as a harsh reminder that Jake is still radio silent. He’d simply updated you on the weather in the jungle, and you’re starting to wonder if he ever sees any action out there. He did say a while ago that it wasn’t what he thought, so maybe he’s trying to make it through by taking up post as a weatherman. You snort to yourself even though the joke isn’t funny. If it’s even a joke.

Jesus fuck, your life is sad. 

Around seven, your doorbell rings and you open to see Cronus rocked back on his heels, looking a little anxious. His hair isn’t greased back and it hangs curly down in his face. He’s exchanged his normal leather jacket for a Christmas sweater and he looks a little anxious, like you’re going to kick him out on Christmas.

“Hey, chief,” He says, “Thought you might be a little lonely tonight, so...here I am.”

“Yeah, yeah, come in,” You say, stepping aside. He’s holding a present behind his back, and once you’re both seated on the couch, he hands it over to you.

“I didn’t get you anything,” You say, shaking your head, “You don’t have to give that to me.”

“No, I wanted to.” He says, sliding it into your lap.

You pull off the bow and tear away the paper, never one to be patient. When you unwrap it, it’s a part you’ve been needing for your bike. You look at him, knowing the thrill is apparent on your face.

“You were talking about it the other day,” He shrugs, “And since I’ve been shacking up with some friends, I don’t have any bills to pay or anything.”

“This...means a lot to me,” You stumble out. You set it aside on the table and put your hands on his shoulders. “Really. Cronus, thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a gift. I can, if you want.”

“ Don’t worry about it.” He slides his arms around your neck and scoots closer, and you take a deep, shaky breath.

It’s happened a few times since Thanksgiving at Nepeta’s. Sometimes when you’re in the store, right after closing. Sometimes he’ll come over like this. It still feels wrong, at first, but mellows out after the initial shock.

This time, you don’t really feel the guilt that usually comes before his lips connect with yours. He kisses you like you’re special, something that Jake stopped doing years ago. His hands move from draped over your neck to your cheeks, in your hair. Eventually, he lays you down underneath him and you stop thinking altogether.

Before, you’ve pretended it’s Jake’s weight pressed against you. Now isn’t one of those times. Because in this moment, you decide to start appreciating Cronus for who he is. 

His hands are edging up your shirt when the phone rings and he jumps against you, shattering the mood but allowing you to get up and answer it with little hesitation. 

“Hey, is this Dirk?” A voice asks. It’s definitely a girl, sounding high-pitched and deflated.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Jade Harley. I’m Jake’s cousin? I’m lead to believe you’re his...best friend.”

The way she says the words assure you that she knows. “Yeah?”

“I guess I just thought that someone should inform you that...that Jake died. In combat.”

“Oh my god,” You gasp, carding a hand through your hair, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

“I’m really sorry, I have to go. I’ll make sure you’re informed of funeral arrangements.”

You hang up and sink to the floor, not even bothering to move back to the couch. Tears are falling before you even feel them pooling up in your eyes, and you have never felt so immeasurably guilty in your life. It takes Cronus a second to realize something’s wrong, but then he’s popping off the couch and crouching down in front of you.

“What is it?” He asks, and you’re too busy choking on your own sobs to answer. “Dirk, please answer me.”

“Jake is dead,” You say, and the words sound so fucking wrong, “And I’ve been cheating on him. I assumed he ran off with some chick instead of thinking logically and now I’ve got to shoulder this guilt for the rest of my life.”

“No, no. This is my fault. I coerced you into all of this. None of this is because you made a faulty assumption. I convinced you of all that just so you’d give into me.”

“Jesus, I wish I could say you coerced me into any of this,” You laugh harshly, “But I can’t, because…”

“Because?”

“Because I love you. Because you make me feel like everything’s okay even when I think my boyfriend’s run off with two nurses for the war effort. You listen to the things I really need, instead of trying to make blind guesses when it comes to gift-giving. You’re a good employee and at the end of the day, when I’m all stressed out, you’re a damn good kisser.”

“You need some stress relief right now?” He asks, looking lecherous. 

“No. Not tonight. Tonight I need...I need to think about all this. I’m sorry, Cronus, I think you need to go home. Go see your family. Your baby brother’s off fighting a war. They’d be happy to have you home.”

He turns to leave and you follow, watching from the window as he starts trudging down the drive. Before you can think too much about it, you run after him, pulling him into you and kissing him hard. 

You’re in the yard, out in the open. It’s pretty risky, so you can’t keep going for very long, but it gets your point across.

“I want you to know this isn’t goodbye,” You say, “I’ll call you in a few days. I promise. I just need tonight to myself.”

He’s in his car before you even reach the doorstep. You wave a limp goodbye as he speeds down the street.

A part of you feels sickly relieved. You try to ignore that feeling.

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas and not a single part of your brain thought you’d spend the day after Christmas in the hospital with Nepeta and her weird friend, who’s apparently not only picked up drugs since you last spoke to her, but managed to overdose on them.

It’s not a good day. Kankri bitched at you about Nepeta’s influence the whole way to the hospital, but as soon as you heard her crying on the phone you knew that’s where you needed to be. When you open the doors to the waiting room, Nepeta is sitting there with her face in her hands. A blonde woman sits next to her, patting her shoulder as she fills out paperwork.

“I’m here,” You say, awkwardly clearing your throat. It sounds too loud in the silence of the room.

“Thank you,” Nepeta squeaks. “I just can’t be alone right now.”

“I’m Vriska’s mother, by the way,” The blonde woman says, “You must be Karkat. Nepeta talks about you all the time when she’s at our house.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Um...I’m sorry, for all this.”

“Oh, it’s...nothing I didn’t expect. I knew Eridan leaving would hurt her; I just wish she’d talked to me about it instead of all this.”

You just nod, and she goes back to filling out paperwork. You slide your arm around Nepeta’s shoulders, pulling her in tight.

An hour or so goes by and Nepeta’s just started to doze off when a man bursts into the hospital in an outfit you would even call ridiculous. Nepeta jerks awake to the sound of footsteps, and her eyes get wide when she takes him in.

“Eridan?” She asks, voice laden with confusion.

“I was discharged. I tried to tell Vriska in the last letter I wrote, but she didn’t give me a very...coherent response. I see why now.”

Vriska’s mother jumps up to embrace him, pulling him deep into her arms. “I’m so glad you’re home. I’m so glad you’re here. Seeing you is going to help her so much, planning the wedding...I’m so excited for the two of you.”

“How is she?” He asks.

“Stable, according to the doctors,” She says, “It’s all just very scary. I’m lucky Nepeta found her when she did.”

He moves to Nepeta, hugging her as if she’s made of glass. You hear him whisper thank you and then you turn a blind eye. Vriska isn’t really your friend, and this is an intimate moment between two of the most important people in her life. You don’t want to interrupt.

“Who is this?” He asks, finally, turning to look at you.

“My boyfriend,” Nepeta says, “Karkat Vantas. He’s in our year at Berkeley.”

“Nice to meet you, finally,” Eridan says, “Vriska had a lot to say about your relationship with Nepeta before I left. And in her letters.”

“Well, um…” You pause, wondering if this is the time or the place, “Vriska has a lot to say about everything.”

Eridan laughs, despite the tears you see welling up in his eyes. “You’re not wrong there. Thank you for coming, even if it was for Nepeta.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I expect him to be at the wedding,” Eridan turns to Nepeta, nudging her with his shoulder, “Plus ones are encouraged.”

“You’re a lot nicer to me all of a sudden,” Nepeta says, smiling in spite of the words.

“You saved Vriska’s life and I just got back from fighting a war. I think we could all use a little kindness right now.”

Hours later, the doctor finally brings in Eridan and Vriska’s mother to see her. Nepeta looks at your for permission, and you nod. She scurries after them, leaving you in the waiting room by yourself.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances, you wouldn’t have wanted to spend the day any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assume Dave and John are okay for right now. Sorry for a short chapter, I've been putting off writing for a while because this was an eventful chapter and I wanted to do it justice. I might not have, but oh well. I'm glad to be writing in this universe again, even if it took a while to get back into the swing of things.


	9. shake it up baby || february 1966

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s an uneventful day, and your heart aches with how much you miss him, but you make it through just like any other. It doesn’t stop you from saying a little prayer before you go to bed that he’ll be home soon, but that’s your own business.

Your name is John Egbert, and you’re spending Valentine’s Day alone for the first time in years. You wonder, briefly, what Dave is doing, but he probably hasn’t even realized the importance of the date. It hadn’t ever been a big deal when he was home anyway, you always spent it holed up in your room, just like any other day. But now that he isn’t around, you wish you’d thrown caution to the wind and tried to do a big fancy dinner somewhere. It’s just hard when everything has to be secret.

He had written during January, telling you all about how there’d been some stirrings of some men being sent home in a new effort to “de-escalate the war.” Dave was clear hopeful he’d be one of them, but you weren’t so sure. You’d heard about someone being sent home already, Cronus’ brother, but you had assumed there were special circumstances for that one.

Dave also seemed to look at the war more and more negatively as his letters wore on, and you fought the urge to say “I told you so” on the daily. He’s already sweating his ass off in a foreign country for a cause he no longer supports, he doesn’t need your obnoxiousness on top of it.

Months ago, you would have spent the day with Dirk. The two of you used to be alone together, but ever since Jake’s funeral, he and Cronus had been attached at the hip. Personally, you thought he moved on a little too quickly to be entirely healthy, but you couldn’t insult him for his coping methods. 

You have no idea what you’d do if you were in his shoes. Dave had written about nearly dying a few times, and each time you’d felt your heart lurch, despite knowing he made it out alive. 

You’d been spending more time with Nepeta’s band of misfits, especially Karkat and his friend Sollux, but they were all busy today. It’s the one drawback of being within a group of people who are all dating someone. 

So you spend the day alone, catching up on your studying and taking a nice afternoon nap. You reread the last letter you got from Dave, tracing over the word love with your pinky finger until you had to leave the dorm to get dinner.

It’s an uneventful day, and your heart aches with how much you miss him, but you make it through just like any other. It doesn’t stop you from saying a little prayer before you go to bed that he’ll be home soon, but that’s your own business.

 

Cronus somehow manages to clear an entire restaurant for Valentine’s Day, chalks it up to his father’s influence, and tells you not to worry about price as you sit down to eat. You just give him a tired smile and agree. Ever since Christmas, he’d been coddled by his parents to an unbelievable degree. You wish you could be estranged for so long and still be reaccepted. Not that your parents gave much of a shit in the first place, they’d been pretty content to leave Dave with you and run off.

Regardless, you appreciate his father’s effort.

“How is your brother spending the day?” You ask as Cronus sits across from you, toying with the tablecloth.

“He and Vris went out on the lake,” Cronus says, “They did that a lot before he left, and I guess they’re taking advantage of the warm weather. Probably blasting The Stones and getting a citation for public indecency.”

You laugh, “Are you excited for the wedding?”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t have to be, with the way everyone else is. Vriska is in our house at least five days a week, and I think she and my mother spend the whole time just screaming in the living room.”

“I think it’s sweet. I’m excited for them. I wish I could be there to see it.”

“Won’t you be?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “No? Vriska doesn’t really know me.”

“No, but she knows me. And you’re my plus one.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, my parents don’t care. I told them. They’re just glad I’m home. I mean, they have a few qualms about it, but it’s just because they’re old. What do you think I told my dad about today?”

“I figured you told him you had a date with a woman.”

“No. I’d never hide you from anyone.”

You’re always blown away when he says things so sweet.

He’d stood by your side at Jake’s funeral, not touching aside from his fingers brushing yours every so often. You’d cried for hours, during and afterward, and he’d held you. You still felt a little guilty about the cheating, but you assure yourself over and over that Jake would understand. 

“You know it’s not going to be the same way with me, right?”

“No, I know. I wouldn’t expect that from you.”

You enjoy your dinner with him, feeling only a little bad for the other couples who might’ve wanted a reservation for this particular restaurant. 

You’re falling in love. And this time, you don’t have to be afraid.

 

The wind whips at your hair as Eridan drives the boat, and it’s a little too chilly to be out on the lake, but it’s for the sake of nostalgia. He drops the anchor somewhere in the middle, and you wrap up in a blanket and just stare at him for a good five minutes.

You still aren’t used to him being home, able to call you and come over and spend nights in your apartment. It’s like a dream come true.

And, most of all, he’s keeping you off drugs. And at first, you’d hated him for it. But as time wears on, you understand.

Besides, you’re absolutely delirious over wedding planning all the time now anyway, you don’t need the hallucinogens. You’d decided on a June wedding, at the Amporas’ beach house. Reservations had been made. The two of you are cake tasting tomorrow, and you’ve never been so thrilled. 

“You are so beautiful,” He says, and you wrinkle your nose in response.

“You are.”

“I missed you so much, Vris. I know I tell you every day, but it won’t ever be enough. I know for sure you’re the love of my life, because you’re the only thing I ever dreamt about.”

“I’m glad you’re back,” You say, simply, and he holds your hand.

“And now you’ll never get rid of me.”

He kisses the tip of your nose and you giggle, happy to be in his arms once again.

 

You and Karkat, in true fashion, return to the diner you’d visited on your first date. He orders a piece of apple pie for the two of you to share, along with two coffees. He gets his black, and yours with so much sugar you can hardly taste the coffee, just the way you like it.

You spend hours talking to one another, likely annoying the diner staff, but it feels like so long since you’ve had time to breathe.

“Vriska’s gone and made me her maid of honor,” You say, “So you’ll still be my plus one, but I’ll be super busy the whole time. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I know she’s your best friend,” He says, “She deserves it. And so do you.”

“I’m just glad you understand. It’s one of the things I love so much about you.”

“I love you too. How is the protest going?”

“I have it planned for April, so it’s going well. Feferi has been making signs with some of her artsy friends, so we should be able to recruit a few more. We just have to keep stressing the whole ‘peaceful’ idea at meetings so that no one gets rowdy and gets us kicked out of school.”

“Good plan, good plan.” He says, sipping his coffee. “I’m so proud of you. You always fight for what you believe in, and that’s so admirable.”

“You’ve been with me every step of the way, so I should be thanking you.”

“I wasn’t with you when you founded a student organization. That was all you, babe. Don’t give me credit where it isn’t due. How are your classes?”

You groan. “Let’s just say I’ll be glad when they’re over. I remember in high school I was so excited to move on to college. God knows why.”

He laughs.

Dinner goes by quietly, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted when it comes to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry!! Senior year is kicking my ass & my boyfriend broke up with me & it's been a hard couple months so!! But I'm trying to get back into the swing of things, even if this is super short. Thank you if you actually read this!!!!!


	10. all day and all of the night || april 1966

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Except, on campus tomorrow, the two of you are informed you won’t be welcomed back to Berkeley.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, your hands are cuffed behind your back, and all you can think about is how Kankri is going to scream at you when you call him to bail you out.

“Fuck you!” Nepeta is screaming, and you’ve never heard that kind of language from her. “This is peaceful, this is our  _ right. _ ”

She’s making a scene, and being highly ignored by the police officer she’s attempting to antagonize. It’s clear she isn’t giving up, rising to get in his face.

She’s right, though, it was peaceful. And they had no right to bust it up, but you were going to go quietly, lest you land in even hotter water.

“I’m not leaving until you drag me out of here like everyone else.”

“Honey, run on home and start dinner for your boyfriend here.” He says, rolling his eyes. “He’ll be wanting a hot dinner when he gets out, I’m sure. It’s not ladylike to cause so much trouble.”

You watch, in horrified disbelief, as she punches him in the face.

He handcuffs her, after that, looking more amused than upset. But her own face is smug, and you just cross your fingers that they won’t charge her with anything.

Kankri does yell when he picks you up, and all the way home from there, but you still find yourself in the Leijon’s house that night for dinner. Nepeta’s mother cooks her favorite meal, and no one would guess that the two of you spent the whole of your afternoon in jail. Nepeta’s got her sleeves rolled up to show the rings around her wrist left from the handcuffs, and she shows them off to Meulin once you’re all sat down to eat.

“I’m proud of you.” Mrs. Leijon says, ruffling Nepeta’s hair. “Don’t ever change.”

You find yourself echoing the sentiment in your own mind, especially as the two of you sit in the den afterwards and she starts in about planning another protest, one with even more precautions to try and prevent this from happening again.

“I don’t think we can do anything to prevent it, Nep. I think they’re going to look for reasons to arrest protestors, and no matter what we do, they’re gonna book us on something.”

“Then they can arrest me. Again and again and again until this war is over. Because I’m not giving up until every last troop is out of Vietnam.”

You smile to yourself, give her a soft kiss on the cheek, and promise you’ll see her on campus tomorrow for lunch.

Except, on campus tomorrow, the two of you are informed you won’t be welcomed back to Berkeley.

 

Your name is Vriska Serket, your wedding is two months away, and you have never been happier to have Eridan by your side than you have since he came home. You’d picked out wedding rings, tasted cakes, and shown him your dress despite protests from both of your mothers’. You settle on Cape Cod, finally, and his parents agree to pay the way of anyone who can’t go.

You’re writing out invitations, hand cramping as you attempt to make every name look pretty. Eridan has long mastered flawless handwriting, and his stack is twice the size of yours, and you decide you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dirk and Cronus are in the kitchen, blasting records, and you bob your head along, thankful for Cronus’ music taste.

“They’re together, you know.” Eridan says.

“I know.” You respond. “They came to one of Nepeta’s parties while you were gone.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No more than Cronus usually does.”

He laughs. “I was just making sure. I don’t think it bothers me, either. My father doesn’t seem too happy about it.”

“I think they’re just glad he’s home. And Dirk is a good guy.”

“I do like him. He can talk cars, and I appreciate that.”

“I missed your car a whole lot while you were gone.”

“More than you missed me?”

“Maybe just a little.” You tease.

“Well, how about we finish up these invitations and ride down to the lake?” He asks, voice heavy with implication, and you start writing a little faster, handwriting be damned.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

He reaches for his pen once again, and his penmanship is as perfect as ever, but you do notice his hand moving just a little faster.

He was gone far too long for your taste.

 

Your name is John Egbert, and the letter comes a little later than usual, but it comes all the same and you’re grateful for that.

_ Dear John, _

_ I was gonna tease this out a little bit, but I don’t think I can. I’m pretty stoked and I think you will be too. I’m coming home. They’re sending a bunch of us home, actually. The war is far from over, but I’m jumping on the chance to get out of here. _

_ I have so much to tell you about. I can’t wait to see you.  _

_ And then get you somewhere private so I can kiss you. _

_ Love, _

_ Dave. _

You tear up, obviously, then start full on sobbing. You’re running down the sidewalk before you fully register being outside, and then you’re bursting into Dirk’s store. Cronus is shelving up front, points you in the direction of the stockroom. You duck into the little back room, and Dirk is standing there, paper in hand.

“I’m guessing you heard.” He says.

“He’s coming home.” You say, nearly choking.

“He is.” Dirk smiles, something sad lurking underneath. “I’m happy for you.”

“I’m sorry that Jake didn’t.” You say before you can really stop yourself.

“It’s okay.” He says, and he’s crying, but you know he’s telling the truth.

He hugs you, playing the role of big brother like he always has to you, and the two of you share stories of Dave until it seems like he’s there with you.

And your heart flutters all over again when you realize that, soon, he will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, i'm back! if anyone still cares. i'm in college now, so that's been wild. anyways, short chapter because things are wrapping up and the next chapter will be the last!!! a little sad to see the story go, but super proud of myself for (finally) finishing it. thank you so so so much for reading and coming along on this fun little (probably historically inaccurate) journey with me!


	11. june 1966 || don't you want somebody to love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Time alone is one thing. Being late for the wedding of the year is another.”

Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and it’s been two months since you were expelled from college at the tail end of your senior year. Your mother had been nothing but supportive, and you’d managed to land a job at a record store while you started applying at some nonprofit organizations you felt pretty passionate about. You’d hope that your passion would make up for the technical lack of a college education.

Karkat had taken it much harder, practically having a full on breakdown on the lawn. He’d dragged you with him when he had to tell his brother, and you had never seen anyone get so angry so fast. He slept on your couch that night.

On the bright side, the school newspaper covers the protest and sets in on the rights of protestors, and you finally feel as if you’ve made a change.

And in the midst of all this madness, you’re the maid of honor in your best friend’s wedding, and she is dragging you along for the final fitting of her wedding dress.

“Do you not feel bad about it at all?” She asks. “Like all that money?”

“I guess. I just don’t feel like I did anything wrong.”

“I would take it to court.”

“Yes, with all the cash I have to hire a lawyer.”

“Eridan is thinking about going to law school.”

“I thought you were going to start a band.”

“The possibilities are endless, aren’t they?” She laughs, twirling around in her wedding dress. “Don’t you love it?”

“I do.” You say, and it’s not a lie. It’s not traditional, by any standards, but Vriska has never been the traditional sort of person.

Eridan’s mother stands in the corner, looking misty-eyed. “You look beautiful. I’m so glad he’s marrying you, really. We always knew. From the second you stumbled into our yard with your wild hair and your dirty clothes, I told his father. I said, ‘Just you wait and see, that’s the girl that our Eridan is going to marry one day.’”

“Oh, please, you did not.” Vriska says, flushing.

“I absolutely did! And when the two of you stopped being friends my heart was  _ shattered.  _ The happiest day of my life was the day he brought you home, and I could just see it.”

You smile to yourself, watching as Vriska twirls again, obviously overcome with happiness.

It’s been two months since you were expelled from college, and you’re beginning to realize that some things are more important. And that everything just might happen for a reason.

You meet up with Karkat for dinner afterward, a last minute picnic since the two of you aren’t exactly in the financial situation to be wining and dining. 

“I got a job today.” He says, popping a strawberry into his mouth. “At the bank.”

“That’s great!”

“I’m hoping that I can maybe go back to college once I save up enough and finish out my degree. Not at Berkeley, obviously, but I called a counselor a week or so ago and they told me they’d be willing to help transfer my credits. So I’m really only a semester away from graduating. I just won’t have a Berkeley degree. I’ve been thinking about trying to transfer into UC Davis, and I think it might go okay, since they’re within the same branch. Not as prestigious, but it’s a little late for that.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t know things would get so out of hand.”

“None of us did, don’t apologize. I was there of my own volition.”

Your heart flutters. You somehow managed to transform this studious, cynical boy into a revolutionary. Or a dreamer, at the very least.

“Besides, I would do it all over again for you.” He says, squeezing your hand.

And just such a romantic.

 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you’ve never seen a room so lavishly decorated before the Ampora Wedding, as newspapers have taken to calling it. Cronus looks almost unimpressed, lingering in the doorway as he takes in the crystalline structures dangling from the ceiling.

“What is the theme even supposed to be?” He asks, shooting glances at the towering floral displays next to every pew.

“You’re just jealous.” You scoff, bumping him affectionately. “Everyone knows you had the hots for Vriska back in the day.”

“I did not. I just liked the chase. You, of all people, should know that by now.” He winks, a gesture that somehow manages to shoot sparks all up your spine rather than repulse you.

“Just let them be happy, even if you think it’s too much.”

“Truth be told, I’m just a little chuffed not to be the little man’s best man.” He says, leading you up to the front of the church. He settles down in the second pew from the front on Eridan’s side and you slide in next to him. 

“You kind of ruined the chances of that when you fucked off for a few years.” You say, turning in your seat to look at the door. 

“Hey.” Cronus says, suddenly serious as he squeezes your hand. “They’ll be here.”

“I know, I know.” You groan. “It’s just that he’s only been home for a few days and I’m still not used to him being back. He’s like a son to me, you know.”

“And he and John are still catching up. Give them some time alone.”

“Time alone is one thing. Being late for the wedding of the year is another.”

“God, don’t let my parents hear you say that.” Cronus rolls his eyes. “You’ll just continue to inflate their superiority complex.”

You laugh at his indignation, all too perplexed by the lifestyle of the rich and famous. “Come on, they are not that bad.”

“I guess not.” He shrugs. “They did take me back in, I guess.”

“Anyway, all they’ve done since Dave’s been home is look at each other every second of every day. I’m glad they have a safe space in my house and everything, but it’s starting to border on obsessive. And Dave came back totally changed, too. He was strictly anti-Communist when he left and now he gives these soapbox lectures about the dangers of McCarthyism. It’s like a totally different dude.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though?” Cronus asks. “Better than the attitude that had him jaunting off to war, at least.”

“Yeah. I just have to adjust to Dave 2.0. If anything, John is even more smitten. Dave keeps talking about going to school now, too. Or at least helping me out at the shop. It’s crazy.”

“It’s a good thing. He has goals that don’t require putting his life on the line. You should be proud.”

“I am, I am.” You insist, but you can’t help but spare a glance at your watch. Vriska is set to walk down the aisle in less than half an hour. “Jesus Christ, where  _ are  _ they?”

 

Your name is John Egbert, and you are entirely too caught up in your boyfriend’s eyes to finish tying his tie. “I missed you.”

“I know, John, it’s only the three hundredth time you’ve said so.” Dave chuckles, finishing up the job himself. “We’ve got to get to this wedding.”

“We have time!” You protest, attempting to drag him back into bed for the third time this morning.

“We really don’t!” He laughs, pushing you off and rising to his feet. “We should be leaving about five minutes ago, come on.”

“We could skip.”

“Dirk would kill me. And I want to meet your friends from school. We can do this later. I’m home for good now, baby.”

The pet names are new. And he’s more affectionate, overall, not so harsh and afraid of who he is. It’s clear that the war changed him, but you think it might have been for the best. You’ve always loved him, wacko political views be damned, but it’s so much easier when he’s finally learned to embrace himself.

“Let’s go.” You say, finally allowing him to drag you out the door. He swoops you up into his arms, depositing you into the passenger seat of his old pickup. You’re giddy. Not just because of him, but with anticipation for the most talked about wedding in your community. 

And when you finally arrive, it really is beautiful. Dave spots Dirk in the front and drags you up with him, settling in next to his brother.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Dirk hisses, tone demanding. There’s already a hush over the room, indicating that Eridan is probably about to enter.

“It really isn’t my fault.” Dave says. “John was practically trying to tie me to the bed.”

“Gross. Never mind.” Dirk says, and the music is keyed up.

Eridan walks in, dressed in uniform, and your eyes well up with tears as you imagine the possibilities if you and Dave could get married. You haven’t even seen him in uniform, but you imagine that it would look beautiful on your wedding day.

 

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you’re freaking out. Nepeta is about to depart to walk herself down the aisle, taking her place before you as the maid of honor.

“But I need you.” You whine, and she tsks. 

“Vriska, you’ve never needed anyone in your life. Don’t start now.” And with that, she beelines towards the doors, tea length dress bouncing underneath her.

You take a deep breath, and wish your father was still around to walk you down the aisle. But Nepeta is right, you’ve always been on your own. So you take a deep breath, wait for your cue, and bust through the doors on your own.

Eridan starts crying, and then you’re toast, inwardly cursing him for ruining your mascara. 

The ceremony flies by, and it doesn’t really hit you until you’re announced as Mr. and Mrs. Eridan Ampora. He dips you when he kisses you, and the feel of his lips on yours drowns out the thunderous applause.

The reception is wonderful, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the room during your first dance, so happy to be with Eridan and to see everyone back together again.

Nepeta and Karkat, smitten as they were that first day on the lawn, watching with adoration in their eyes. Dirk and Cronus, still too drunk on new love to go anywhere near the champagne. Dave and John, reunited at last but still secretive, holding hands underneath the table with both their faces alight.

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you sneak Nepeta outside after all the important dances are over, knowing that Vriska would kill you if you dared to steal any of her limelight. The two of you walk from the church down to the stream, undoubtedly where they do baptisms, and you take her hand.

“I have something I have to do.” You say, and the ring box burns a hole in your pocket, pressing against your thigh like the world’s most urgent reminder. You try to spit it out before she guesses what you’re up to, you have a whole speech prepared, can’t take her interruptions.

You take her other hand, too, holding them both and looking her dead in the eye. Those beautiful, deep brown eyes that charmed you into changing your whole outlook on the world.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath, and you begin. “I love you, Nepeta, enough to get expelled from Berkeley and not even bat an eye as I watch my whole world fall apart. I love you enough to be nice to your best friend, who honestly scares the shit out of me. I love you enough to read all the books you recommend me, even when I think they’re boring. I love you enough that I will always, always have time to talk about the war, be it this one or the ones before it or any that happen in the future. But most importantly, I love you enough to want you by my side, every day, for the rest of my life.”

She opens her mouth to speak, and you interrupt her by dropping down on one knee. She covers her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I would take an expulsion, a jail cell, and handcuffs in the back of a police car any day for you. So long as I get to marry you, so.” You dig around in your pocket, pulling out the ring box and popping it open. “So, Nepeta Leijon, will you please engulf my life in your chaos, and let me make you my wife?”

She just nods, tears rolling openly down her cheeks. You slip the ring onto her finger and she yanks you to your feet, clutching you so close that you can hardly breathe.

“Today is the best day.” Nepeta says. “The best day for  _ everyone. _ ”

And for just a moment, it feels like the war is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god, what a journey it has been. This thing has seen me through high school and the beginning of college. Thanks to everyone who has stuck around, I am so, so proud to say that this is finally done!! Please enjoy.


End file.
